Sakura no Fubuki
by SapphireMoons
Summary: AU. The Dark Invasion has left the Empire of Teiko in a state of near ruin. However, three years later, in the ashes of the now colony, arises six individuals. Called the Kiseki no Sedai, the young boys barely into their entrance of being men; oath to take their home country and land back. Slow Build.
1. All The King's Men

AN: Okay. First things, first. This is my first time writing for Kuroko no Basket, because I had fallen in love with the characters and since I could not write my other stories because of THIS. IN. MY. HEAD. SO. I decided to put it up. And obviously, the characters are not mine, with all that nonsense. *INSERT DISCLAIMER HERE*

IDK how this story will go in regards of pairings but for now, it's just GOM bonding.

Updates will be whenever I have time / when life gives me a break and decides to let me update. And rated T for mild cursing. Happy reading~!

* * *

Chapter 1: All The King's Men

An ink brush laid damp, blotting into what could have been the letter that alerted the nation of the invading barbarians that awaited at the borders of the fair land of Teikon Empire. But the owner of the brush had already been slaughtered, his corpse hanging dramatically over his desk. Blood oozed fluidly to mar the ornate tapestries of the commanding general's tent, the assassin having already taken his leave.

It was quite a feat of what an effect a letter could have.

What lives weighed upon a thin sheet of parchment that was scrawled with a warning in elegant script, were priceless and impactful upon the fate of an aged nation of Teiko. Seen in only hindsight, the long term effect was astronomical.

Because with the letter, maybe the outskirts of the empire would have been overcome with the litter of corpses of her own people; covered in blood, grime and the brutality of war. Because with the letter, maybe a disease wouldn't have spread to the nation, attacking the young and aged. Because with the letter, maybe men wouldn't have had to leave their families to fight off the invaders, pledging goodbyes at their prime. Because with the letter, maybe the invasion could have been prevented altogether.

But it was hard to say, as many variables could have attributed to the conditions that led to the joining of six individuals.

Also known as the Generation of Miracles.

* * *

Kuroko Tetsuya, son of a humble scribe, seated himself with a quiet silence; his one-size too large hakama a pale white as he followed his instruction for the day. Expected to follow in his father's footsteps, the boy was compliant; fitting for one such as him, his small stature yielding little else. Scribes and writers were not seen or heard, his mother nodded. They were present when needed and were polite with their words, ready to do their work and function within the empire. Kuroko understood that much, yet within his chambers, littered daily scrawls that hinted protest and radicalism.

The boy was smart enough to not allow them to be seen obviously, as speaking out against the currently mad monarchy was suicidal. But nonetheless, the quiet boy had them. Folding the copied parchment, the eleven-year-old boy sighed with a small glare at his leftover assignments, neatly stacked beside him. _Mockingly, rather._ The scribe's son thought bitterly, raising the brush to resume when a small thump sounded.

Blinking, the boy lowered his brush warily.

Sounding from outside the classroom, the pale blue-haired boy lit a lantern before deciding to investigate. Footsteps soundless, Kuroko allowed his socked feet to meet the sandy gravel of the courtyard, his round eyes locking on the disrupted pebbles by the far wall of the school. Someone climbed over the stone walls. Soft blue eyes trailed past the courtyard, leading to the library; secluded and off to the side as Kuroko entered, his steps quiet and the flame of his lantern the only indicator of his presence. Slowly, the boy entered, cold sweat running over his milky skin. A creak of the door was heard as Kuroko paused, not daring to move as a soft footstep was pierced the silence.

Eyes narrowing, the blue-haired boy retreated, blowing out the candle.

Within the library, a soft breath of tensed relief flowed past veiled lips, the trespasser cursing his sloppiness mentally before glancing at his wound. The bleeding had stopped for the time being but the overarching lull of slumber assured him that the wound was laced with a poison. With haste, the masked intruder lifted his disguise, revealing the face of a young man barely out of boyhood as he wrapped the black cloth over the wound tightly. Wincing in breathy curses, his ebony locks were damp with perspiration and face pale with the gleam of sweat, the young man allowed himself a moment to compose; when the wall he leaned against disappeared, falling back into the secret entryway.

Catching himself in the momentum, the young man executed a sloppy backflip, swaying in his landing as he glared over his surroundings, senses in full alert.

Onyx orbs caught nothing. No one was there.

"You're hurt."

The young man whirled around so swiftly that he nearly blacked out, a thin blade in his hand in an instant. Sweat dripped from his locks as his pupils dilated, searching for the owner of the voice, indifferent in his ears.

"Please do not move. You'll aggravate your wound more, intruder-san."

Looking down, the unveiled assassin stepped back in shock at the sight of the small boy and the fact that he had not sensed him at all, nearly dropping his blade. The boy was small for his age, pale blue locks pulled back into a low ponytail as airy bangs framed his porcelain face. Innocent sky-blue globes blinked at him as if expectant, as the young assassin spotted white stripes of bandages and a thin bottle in delicate hands, hidden in the sleeves of a too large hakama. Lips pulled to a delicate frown, the boy gestured for him to sit, ignoring the blade entirely.

Finding himself complying, Nijimura Shuzo seated himself on the floor, slipping the weapon in gods-knew-where.

Immediately, the boy turned to the wound, his frown growing as he unwrapped the bindings, Nijimura snapping out of his shock.

"Who are you?" The assassin blurted as Tetsuya paused in his handiwork, looking up to meet the onyx eyes with his wide blue ones.

"Please be silent, intruder-san. This is a library despite the school being closed for the day." And with that, the scribe-in-training turned back to the wound. Nijimura found himself obeying to the boy's request, noting absently that the boy was extremely polite. The wound wrapped with swift yet efficient fingers, Nijimura awakened to the child gently patting his forehead with a cool towel, his body laid in a makeshift futon of a thin blanket and a stack of soft books as a pillow. He did not even realize that he had fallen asleep.

"W-What…?" The assassin mumbled as Tetsuya lifted a finger to his lips.

It was then that the older registered the muffled sound of voices behind a thin door, no bigger than the boy in front of him. Nodding, Nijimura waited until the voices died off before speaking.

"Who are you, young one?"

"I am not allowed to give my name to strangers, intruder-san." Kuroko replied. "But I can tell you how I found you."

The older rose a brow. "Then how did you find me?"

"I heard you landing on the gravel."

Nijimura mentally noted to land quieter when running away. "And by following the sound of my footsteps, you found me here?"

Kuroko shook his head. "The indents of your footsteps led me here. Only the sand leading here was disturbed, so I came back with some bandages and an antidote, intruder-san."

"I see." The assassin nodded before blinking. "Wait. How did you know that I was poisoned?"

"The imprints on the sand were messier than usual, as if you were swaying from blood loss or poison. There was no trail of blood so, I presumed that you were poisoned, intruder-san. I apologize, if I was incorrect." Tetsuya explained, his words soft as he held out the antidote, as if asking with his actions if he was wrong.

Taking the flask, the assassin ruffled the boy's hair with a fond pat. "Kid. You are way too polite."

"I apologize if I may have offended you." The teal boy merely blinked up at the older male, short even when both of them were seated.

"No, not at all." Nijimura waved aside as he drank the antidote. "Are you not going to ask the most obvious question, kid? Why or how I got poisoned and hurt?"

"I don't have a reason to, intruder-san." Tetsuya answered quietly as he gathered the leftover bandages and empty flask of antidote. "Please leave before dawn, my father awakens early for his work. There are less people about at this nightly hour than any other time, intruder-san."

Not one to impose more than necessary, the older male grabbed the pale wrist of the scribe-in-training in a loose grip, not wanting to startle him as he spoke kindly, his coal eyes warm. "Thank you, kid. For helping me and giving me aid, I may not ever be able repay you but, tonight, you saved my life."

"Your welcome, intruder-san." Tetsuya blinked, his blank face unmoving as he stood, only coming up to Nijimura's chest. "May the gods bid you safe travels."

"Kid. If we ever meet again, it's Nijimura-nii to you."

"Yes, Nijimura-san."

"...Kid. You need to work on this politeness thing."

"I apologize, Nijimura-san."

* * *

Kise Ryota kicked aside the scroll filled desk before him a fit of frustration, his calligraphy set knocked over haphazardly, ink splattering in angry black plumes on the tatami mats as the brushes rolled unceremoniously. Amber orbs glittered with crystalline tears as the young mage glared at the standards that his older sisters forced him to write. He was a twelve-year-old boy, the only male of the house, making his existence even more insignificant. Why was he forced to do the same work as his sisters? He wasn't even _gifted_ like them!

Groaning a mumbled litany of unflattering insults, the golden haired boy rolled childishly on the embellished futon, ignoring the fact that he was going to ruin his white hakama, embellished with dark blue symbols of alchemy. Uniform for a priest-in-training and one that he will later be scolded for wrinkling by his mother, Kise felt frustration mar his vision red.

He. Hated. It. So. _Much_.

What was the point of needing to go through the sacred Period of Cleansing — that was intended to keep the mage 'pure' and untouched by anyone in the duration of a week — when he wasn't even a mage in the first place? Because of the thing that lived in him, _they_ said. His sisters all manifested their powers when they were born while he was past a decade into life without as much as a flicker of magic. Because the god had yet to awaken _they_ said. Why was he always alone with his sisters when the other boys played? He couldn't be touched, _they_ said. Why did others stare at his golden hair like it was godly compared to his sisters' pale yellow? It was the sun god's blessing, _they_ said. Why did he have to gather ingredients for an elixir that he did not have the capacity to brew? It was to allow the sun god's descendent — being him, he later learned — to fulfill his duty when he awakened, _they_ said. Why did he have to pray to gods that he did not believe in? Because he was the sun god's descendent, _they_ said.

 _Smile, Ryota._ He breathed as he tried to calm his mind. _Just smile._

If he smiled through it, then his mother would be happy along with his sisters, convinced that if he was happy and smiling, _they_ were doing something right. That the sun god that was somehow in him was happy. Nevermind him. It was so disgusting. _Smile_. Kise nearly laughed in madness. At the tender age of twelve, he had long ago forgot how to smile genuinely.

It was the upturn of the lips. That was all it was.

"Young Master. Your mother wishes for you to report to her chambers."

Sighing, the only son of the house replied with a voice that was used so many times that even the boy did not know whether it was sincere anymore. "Very well. Inform Mother that I am on my way."

Eyeing the mess in his room, the blonde unconsciously slapped a smile on his face when a pretty maid entered, bowing. "Ah. I'm sorry about the mess. Please clean it up as soon as you can and take your time!" _Smile, Ryota. Fake._

After leaving her with a blush, the blonde made his way with his aid — guard dog— behind him. The mansion was large, considering his mother's occupation of being the Royal Priestess, who oversaw offerings to the gods and services for harvests and advances in the divine. Ever since the founding of Teiko, the Kise House was of powerful mages and priestesses with great psychic powers, signified by one characteristic. Hair spun in gold, the legend for told, was the child who wielded the power of the sun god. His mother's daisy yellow locks were the most golden that anyone had ever seen in the empire and she was known as the youngest priestess to have attained the position at the age of thirty after the passing of Ryota's grandfather. Then came Ryota.

His amber molten orbs and golden locks when he was born. His beautiful almost ethereally handsome looks that made a dirty burlap sack attractive if it were the only garment he wore; it was not possible to be human. It couldn't be, they cried as _they_ bowed at his feet. _They_ worshipped the air he breathed, the dirt he scraped off his shoes, the compliments _they_ gave glittering with hope that he would bear them blessings, as if he was a god. When he frowned, _they_ ran in a frightened derail as if he had summoned a demon to consume their entrails. When he smiled, _they_ flocked like bees to a pot of fresh honey, basking in the dazzle of the pearly whites of his happiness.

So, he never stopped smiling. _Fake. Fake. Fake._

"Ryota." Only one person was able to call him that.

"Mother." The twelve-year-old son replied, a small smile on his lips. _Fake_. _Fake. Fake. Fake._ "You summoned me?"

"Yes." His mother was, without a doubt, beautiful. From her porcelain skin and pale, ashy blonde locks that cascaded in soft curls down her back, intelligent azul eyes framed with long lashes that he inherited; the woman made her miko uniform appear tailored for her. To which it no doubt was, Kise thought as he was donned in a hakama in the same manner, hers a red version that was completed with a ruby obi. Matching in color, thin ribbons twirled in a criss-cross manner into two locks of hair that rested at her bosom, framing her face as golden earrings and a small crown etched with the same symbols as clothing. With a manicured hand, she pointed to the man that rested at the futon she usually sat to greet guests to her chambers, her back to him. "You have a guest here to see you."

It was then that Ryota noticed the other man, who knelt beside the slumbering elder one, eyes red from crying as the former gripped the latter's lax hand over the blankets. "This is the renowned scholar who is rumored to be the best scribe, his calligraphy clear and exquisite. A skill that is only worthy for you, my son, the vessel of the sun god to add to your arsenal."

Kise smiled. _Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake._ "For me?"

His mother mirrored her son. _Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake._ "Master Makoto will assist you in harvesting it from his father, Ryota. You will be the greatest vessel of the House of Kise."

Holding out her hand to him, the twelve-year-old resisted the urge to run. His smile grew, the corners aching his cheeks. _Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake._

"Yes, mother." As Kise neared the aging man, he smiled. _Fake_. As he watched the brush meet the paper, he smiled. _Fake_. As he wrote his perfect copy of the work, he smiled. _Fake_. As he was complimented and bowed to for his born status, he smiled. _Fake_. As he walked back to his chambers, he smiled. _Fake_. As he thanked the servants, he smiled. _Fake_. It was only as he was alone in dead of night, still in his ruined hakama that he was yet to be reprimanded for; knelt on the cold futon, did Ryota finally stop smiling for the world he was born in. In the darkness, the boy smiled brokenly. _Real_.

* * *

Let it be said firstly this; Murasakibara Atsushi was a simple boy. He did as he pleased, that if he wanted to do something, he would. And if he did not, he wouldn't. Therefore, when he was given the task to go fetch something for his Nee-chan, the purple-haired boy pouted with a rice cracker in his mouth, displeased.

"No." Atsushi refused, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he turned away from his third brother, uninterested. "You do it, Third Nii-chan. Nee-chan is scary at this time of the month."

Huffing for a minute in amusement, the elder sibling relented as he stood, not before ruffling his little brother's head, despite that the younger was nearing his own height already. Laughing at the younger's pout for messing up his ponytail, the elder sauntered off, leaving Atsushi to continue his venture in the extinction of rice crackers. Just as he was about done with the last of the race, a ruby sparrow chirped softly as a violet heron followed after it, silent but observing nonetheless; as the young twelve-year-old stared before turning away, unconcerned.

As the fourth son of a merchant-trader and middle man between the produced items and the market, Atsushi never starved and was raised healthily just as long as the empire prospered properly, which at the time was guaranteed. With his two eldest brothers in the Royal Army as soldiers, their status made them in the front-lines but in such peaceful times, there was no worry. With his third brother on the same mindset, it was eventually just Atsushi, his father, and his older sister, who babied him more than she would admit. It was due to several variables, Atsushi concluded.

Yes, he was like a little kid and petty to the point of being childish. But that did not mean he did not have a brain. He was sarcastic when he wanted to be and he was able to differentiate when or not to listen to others. He simply did not employ the energy to follow through. It was something others did, not him.

Reaching out for another rice cracker, the only Murasakibara in the room felt a familiar sense of dread sink in his gut as he came up empty. _He. Ran. Out. Of. Snacks._

Murasakibara Atsushi knew no other greater fear.

With a slow push, the tall child sat up from the wooden porch of his home, idly glancing at the straw-covered roof before slipping on his sandals with socked feet. After straightening the dirtied beige — formerly a humble brown — and worn hakama, the boy was off to the marketplace. The walk itself to his father's workplace was not far; as the last thing they wanted was to be associated with the lower class, something the Murasakibara family agreed wholly.

Atsushi scowled at the thought.

They never _broke_. At the face of death, good / bad harvest, loss of their own, or whatever tragic / eventful happening to their lives; they were never broken over it for too long and would instead try even harder the following chance that they had. They enjoyed the life and journey of it, and had fun by working hard. By working hard, the reward is so much sweeter they said. The purple-haired boy begged to differ.

If he tried, things _broke._

If he worked hard, things _broke_ , irreparably under his fingers.

 _Reward?_ The only reward that he was given for working hard was crushed remains of something he did not wish to be crushed. The only time working hard was sweet was when people he did not like were crushed. The first time he did it, it was _exhilarating_ , the feeling of their head in his hands. The sound of the fragile bones snapping like the crunch of little twigs, the red liquid that was called blood gurgling from every opening like oil and the utter despair in their eyes; blank, sightless eyes that were undoubtably _broken_.

"Atsu-chin?" The boy blinked at the nickname.

Aromas of street food permeated the boy's senses as he found himself at his destination, mouth drooling immediately at being surrounded by his love. Turning to the left, Atsushi grinned toothily, opposing from his usual lazy smile at the kind, taffy vendor who the boy fondly replied. "Oba-chan!"

"If it isn't Atsu-chin!" The elderly woman smiled, looking up at him as she gestured him behind the rows of hard taffy, patting the wooden bench for him to sit beside her. "How are you and your family doing, little one?"

"Nee-chan is working today with Third Nii-chan helping her. — He has be careful. Nee-chan is _scary_ right now. — Father is away at the next town, picking up some things; Nee-chan said. First Nii-chan and Second Nii-chan are in the army. Mother is gone." Atsushi recounted, before thanking for the cylindrical taffy that was held out to him, sucking on the white candy immediately. "Sweet~"

"I'm glad you like it, Atsu-chin. Consider it my thanks for helping me the other day." The elderly woman smiled, patting the boy's head fondly. The violet tresses were soft and long, rare for those of merchant-class but it was tied back neatly with a leather strap to reveal a strong jaw of the still-growing child and happy purple eyes that glinted only whenever sweets were in sight.

"Hai~" Atsushi sang, biting the hard candy fondly.

"What are your plans for today, Atsu-chin?" Oba-chan asked fondly, melting the syrup to wrap over sticks before allowing them to cool. "Are you going to help your Nee-chan and Nii-chan?"

"Too much work~" The violet-eyed boy frowned, done with his first candy and reaching for another, placing a few coins on the bench. "I just wanna snack today."

"Ara, that's not healthy. You need to eat full meals and grow up well like your Nii-chans, Atsushi. Otherwise, I can't give you anymore sweets. But if you promise to eat your meals and not let your snacks ruin your appetite too much, I'll give you one everyday."

"Ehh~" The boy whined before his expression scrunched into a thoughtful look before he held out a pointed pinky. "Pinky promise! Oba-chan has to pinky-promise Atsu-chin!"

Smiling, the elderly woman wrapped her small, aged digit over the much larger one, as Atsushi met her smiling eyes with an attempted serious look that was more adorable than stern. After waving his goodbye to the kind vendor, the mauve haired boy made his way to a daifuku stand, purchasing a parcel before making his way home, idly noting that it was due sunset soon. Humming under his breath, the amethyst-eyed child chewed the red-bean filled mochi, nearly finished with the entire parcel by the time his home was in sight. His job was going to begin soon. Dropping off the empty parcel, the youngest Murasakibara made his way to the back of the home, undeterred by the rows of dead. Endless pits of ebony where eyes were suppose to be and bloody pockets of ribbed cages that should have protected organs gaped empty; such mutilation should have made any twelve-year-old run away in fear and be scarred for the remainder of his life.

Atsushi passed them without a glance. Instead, he pouted.

"… I want more daifuku…" was the mutter as the tall boy stopped at a large furnace, silently alighting the coals with a spark. Ignoring crackling of chopped wood and the scent of charcoal, Murasakibara lifted two bodies that were several inches above his height with ease, throwing them into the orange flames, licking happily over the carcasses. Blinking slowly, the furnace was closed. Then reopened to reveal left over bone fragments that were then crushed into the ashes. And the twelve-year-old repeated the cycle. One body after the other, the ashes were collected carefully, before they were placed into a container, a quarter full.

An hour later, the container was about three-quarters filled, amethyst eyes peering over the contents with a contemplative hum, the furnace cooled. "Nii-san said that he needed at least a jar more to send to the potter… this is Nee-san's fault for choosing out little kids for the trading Father runs… I want more snacks…"

Catching sight of a stray foot, the boy perked up. "Ara… I missed one."

Reaching for the body, the twelve-year-old recoiled with mild surprise as the limb moved under his hold, the ankle kicking violently. Frowning, the twelve-year-old pulled with a swift jerk, revealing a boy who was almost a man, youthful fat still sticking to his face despite the grime and dried blood. Specks of blood colored his tear-stained cheeks as a dirtied rag covered splotches of faded ruby where his eyes were suppose to be, his arms bound with tight yet tearing binds; hair matted and fingernails ragged, he must have been the plaything that Nee-chan had commented in the off-hand earlier.

" _Who's there?!_ " His voice shook with fear as Atsushi hummed, annoyed as his captive began to struggle. "Let me go!"

"Stop that." Atsushi ordered, his voice childish but stern. "So troublesome."

"Please! Get me out of here! _She_ … She took my eyes! And now… I… _I…_ " The man was in near tears as the youngest Murasakibara frowned deeper. "My eyes… I… _can't…_ "

"Can you shut up now?" Atsushi drawled annoyedly, dragging the man like a rag doll rather than carrying him. "How else was Nee-chan going to make any profits out of you? She took your eyes because _Father_ said so."

"N-Nee-chan…? Father…?" The man froze as the twelve-year-old was now a foot away from the furnace. "Profits…?"

Lowering the man, Atsushi hummed a nod. "Hm. Profits to buy me snacks."

" _S-Snacks_ …? My eyes… they were…" Tears began to river, the violet-head noted.

"Only now did you figure that out?" The boy's voice was slow and sarcastic, as the man felt his body grabbed by large hands before being thrown lightly on a cold surface. His hands struggled from their binds, fingertips recoiling on the cold. _Metal_. _What was this?_ "How slow~ Maybe that's why Nee-chan didn't take the other parts too."

A hiss was heard as the man felt bile creep up his throat. The smell of burnt wood.

"Oh well. Crushing time~"

Murasakibara Atsushi merely watched with slow blink as the man uselessly struggled, despite being aware that the mauve-haired boy had locked the furnace and had poured the new oils his father recommended over the wood to produce larger flames And yet, he was still trying to claw open the hatch like it would make a difference. Murasakibara frowned harsher before he released another wave of the slippery liquid. The flames were blue now. His screams were louder, but too muffled for even the keenest to hear from outside the home. He struggled even more. _Stupid_.

 _Too much work._ Murasakibara thought several minutes later as he wrapped the jar of ashes beside his sister's handiwork, which were wrapped in bloody packages that were later placed into clean wrappings. _Just give up already. You struggle despite the fact your death and loss is already eminent. Not even worth me crushing personally._

* * *

Blood pooled and gushed as the physician frowned deeply, his displeasure at the mess evident before thin strips of cloth were presented before him. Fresh bandages. Taking them, he swiftly applied them to the wound, his frown unchanged as they were soiled by the blood, displaying no sign of stopping. Ignoring the questions and exclamations of the family behind him, the doctor wrapped the bandages tightly, pressure great as a damp cloth was held out. Nodding to his assistant with consent, the doctor turned back to his unconscious patient, who passed out from shock. An hour later, after recommending a mixed brew of medicine to treat fever and infection if symptoms display, the doctor bowed as his patient was carried back to his home by a thankful village chief and family.

"As always, the gods were right, Father."

Son, assistant and in-training doctor to his father's title, Midorima Shintarou was seated properly, back straight despite his light blue hakama was stained with faded splotches of blood, his hands bandaged with fresh linen. Chartreuse orbs glared behind specially designed glasses of his father's invention after he had discovered his child was visually impaired, as emerald bangs brushed over his brows, the rest tied back into a thin ponytail. And like him, the twelve-year-old wore a bracelet of wood, a compartment within hiding a thin sleeve of parchment.

It was passed from generation to generation.

His ancestor was given the following prophecy — _to you, the line of physicians, I gift this bracelet. I warn you, do not remove it once given. Bear the burden of collecting what the gods command and your legacy will never falter._ — and due to early skepticism, his death only reinforced the importance of the bracelet when the bracelet came away in a minor mishap that became deadly. And now, only Shintarou and his father bore this burden, never failing to wear the bracelet and heed the gods every morning.

Born in the month of the Goat and his sign of what the Westerners identified with as a Cancer, the gods had foretold that he was to encounter much blood and unsavory images even for a doctor and that the item of a silver needle was recommended. Adjusting the lens of his focal item of sight, the young assistant ignored the inquiring look of his current patient at his bandaged hands as he crushed a blend of herbs. It did not matter what others thought of his odd quirks of having an item that was considered out of place or when his fingers were taped to ensure that they were always sterilized; as long as he never _missed_.

"Shin-chan~!" A happy cry echoed into the office as a black-haired boy dashed in, an easygoing grin on his face. "Ohayo! Midorima-san."

"Be silent, Takao." The green-haired twelve-year-old growled as the other had turned back to his father, who greeted him with a soft smile. "You're going to disturb the patients, and I will not hesitate to throw you out."

"Gomen, gomen; Shin-chan." Takao waved happily, before grinning. "Your father said that you're done for the day. So, come with me to the festival today~?"

"Don't be stupid, Takao." Midorima glared as he placed the crushed herbs and preserves in a small pot to brew. "I am busy. Do you not see the number of patients I have to see to?"

Takao glanced around the office. The patient that Midorima was attending to had just left, leaving no more patients. "It's _so_ busy. Is Shin-chan afraid of festivals?"

"I am not afraid of festivals!"

"Ah, that's right! It's people that Shin-chan is afraid of!"

"Exa—! Takao! I am not —!"

"I don't certainly see a problem with it." The elder Midorima cut in, a teasing smile on his face as he gestured for the door. "As long as you get home by your curfew and keep your bracelet on, you may go with my permission; Shintarou."

That was how Midorima Shintarou found himself at the festival with an excited Takao behind him, both in dressed in ornate noble robes that emphasized their status. Unlike the latter, the former was frowning severely. Midorima fiddled with the silver needle in the inner pocket of his light blue kimono, the obi an ebony as white leaves of bamboo danced in the imaginary wind in the blue. Draped over his shoulders was an ebony jittoku, having outed for his haori, too formal for the occasion; both matching in that they bore an emblem of a slithering snake. After going through several attractions that involved Midorima in several compromising situations and Takao laughing at his expense after the former lectured those who lost was due to their _horrid_ timing of being born, gods forbid that they had the audacity to not be born in the _exact_ timing as the green-haired twelve-year-old. It was peaceful and happy, therefore; like all of the times before, it ended.

A shrill scream of a young woman broke the harmonious chatter of the night festival as the twelve-year-olds flinched at the sound, startled. Immediately afterwards, men armed with spears with golden and red armor marched through, commanding the citizens to go back into their homes. Retreating swiftly into one of the many narrow alleys of the capital village of Shutoku, the twosome watched as the men dashed to the direction of the screams.

"What was that…?" Takao uttered, shocked as Midorima narrowed his eyes.

"Follow me, Takao."

"Eh? _EH?_ Wait, Shin-chan!" Takao hissed, not wanting to attract unwanted attention as he chased after the other male. After a moment of contemplation, the shorter male scowled before his grey-blue eyes glinted with determination. "Ah, mou~! Take a left, and then a right!"

Following the directions swiftly, a gruesome sight greeted the boys as Midorima and Takao turned the corner, chartreuse and blue steel eyes widening as Takao held back a stomach of bile.

It was a woman, her corpse thrown over the side-steps of a home as if she were trash. Dressed in once beautiful yellow robes embroidered with orange flowers with countering coloration for her skirt that was tied with a light blue obi, she was obviously a woman of the Emperor's Harem, the clothing stained with blood as stab wounds gaped openly. Judging from her lack of expensive hair ornaments and simple pearl earrings, the rather low ranked concubine stared at the boys with outlined and shadowed yet bloodshot eyes. Dark blood bubbled at her painted lips as it trailed down her chin to which caught Midorima's eye, nearing the body.

 _What is a woman of a Jieyu* status doing here in the outskirts of the empire? There was too little for her to have died of blood loss from her stab wounds._ Midorima thought as he inspected the seemingly fresh wounds, the fabric damp with blood rather than dripping. _The blood had stopped flowing within the body. Before she was stabbed. She was not stabbed to death._

"Shin-chan! The policemen are coming!" Midorima paid no heed to the warning, as he pulled out his lucky item, inserting it into the corpse's mouth, the painted lips smearing his bandaged fingers and the needle. Counting mentally to five, the assistant doctor stood before nodding to Takao, barely able to avoid being seen by the men of the Imperial Army. To say that they were shocked was a severe understatement.

"X-Xu Jieyu!" One of the men stuttered. "What is she doing out here?!"

"Silence, _fool_!" Another hissed, clearly a superior. "His orders were clear. Do not speak her name or status. You, strip the body of her clothing and dress her commoner robes and make sure the blood stains it. The rest of you; survey the area in mock investigation and make sure no one is in the proximity. Understand?"

"Sir!" By the time the men scrambled off, Takao and Midorima had scrambled to the straw rooftops of the nearby homes, both watching without daring to breathe.

Turning away when the body was removed of the clothing, the boys watched as another man entered the scene, Takao stopping Midorima from shouting with a sounding slap to his mouth as they both sucked a breath they did not know they needed at the new arrival's appearance. Midorima's father.

The man narrowed his eyes in the same way that his son had an hour ago, his voice dark. "Another one, captain?" _There were others?!_

"Yes, doctor." The second man to speak nodded. "If you would, please run through the same protocol for this woman."

"Another failure?" _Of what?_ Shintarou did not even notice that the hand over his face was gone.

"No, sir." He bowed. "She saw too much and he does not allow chances." The needle in his inner pocket was heavier than a thousand pounds.

"I see." Midorima's father nodded. "Take the body to my office, I will send the official autopsy to him as soon as I can." _Do you mean a fabricated one, Father?_

"Sir." His father left, unfazed. _Father…_

It was not until the vicinity was empty for an hour that Takao or Midorima dared to speak, well into the night and nearly curfew. "S-Shin-chan? Are you…?"

"Promise me, Takao." Midorima whispered, his words blaring in his own ears. "Do not speak of this to anyone." _As in my father…_

Takao nodded, his eyes steely narrow. "Are you going to be okay, Shin-chan?"

Regaining some part of his composure, the bespectacled child huffed before turning away with a light blush. "O-Of course! My well-being is none of your concern."

"Your kindness is showing, Shin-chan~" Takao teased before he dodged a half-hearted swipe from the other. After the two of them split ways to their respective homes, Shintarou's eyes were dark with concentration. _A Jieyu that was removed from the Imperial Palace was staged to appear to be violently stabbed to death of a commoner? All because she knew too much? And what of the potential mention of a failure that Father mentioned? What is it that has failed? If the perpetrator behind this wished her dead, then why ask for his father's assistance to investigate the body? The only things I know for certain is that something was conducted that had the possibility of failure, the person who has done this has something to hide and has done this more than once, has the power to remove one of the emperor's women who cannot go outside the palace; to which my father has covered up in enough occasions to be a common sight._

"Welcome home, young master."

Nodding absently, Shintarou retreated into his chambers, not emerging even for dinner. It was the following morning that the twelve-year-old had found his father's report of the Jieyu. _Death by blood loss, multiple stab wounds to vital organs and vessels of blood._ The boy lifted his previous lucky item. The silver needle that was once bright and pure, was now tainted with an ebony rust, smeared with ruby cosmetics that gleamed like blood.

Just like his father was now in his eyes. _As always, the gods never failed to be right._

* * *

A war cry echoed in the courtyard as a young boy hacked at a straw dummy, practicing into the depths of the night despite his mother's insistence for him to go inside and pursue his studies. Anyone looking in would have shook their head and given the mother a sympathetic sigh, for Aomine Daiki was undoubtably his father's son. High Commander-in-Chief of Teiko and with a record of losses that can be counted on one hand, Daiki did not fall at all far from the tree when he took up the blade at the age of five, wide indigo eyes sparkling with excitement in the art form of wielding a katana.

 _Left. In. Right. Out. Uppercut. Follow through. In and out once more._

Daiki followed the kata instructed by his sensei with fevered devotion, his father having hired the best of the best for his heir and only child. Hands raw and covered in calluses that indicated swordsmanship, the navy-blue haired boy continued until a nicely aimed scroll smacked him accurately at the forehead, falling over with a yelp.

"That hurt!" Twelve-year-old Aomine growled from the courtyard floor, his bokken beside him as he looked up to see a frowning Momoi Satsuki. The well-endowed childhood friend was dressed in a pink hakama, patterned with silvery blossoms with a ruby obi that was accented with ebony, that matched with her black skirt. Her silky pink locks were pinned loosely in a bun that was decorated with several gold pieces and red ornaments. Known as the wise and extremely beautiful daughter of the House of Momoi, she was not just a pretty face. The connections and information network of the House of Momoi was so extensive that rumor said that not even the Investigation Bureau knew just how far. And being the only heir, as soon as she was of age, the letters of marriage streamed endlessly.

One of which, she threw at her childhood friend in annoyance.

"You were suppose to be inside after dark, Dai-chan!" Momoi scolded, a frown on her lightly painted lips, outlined magenta eyes shadowed with a hint of red. "Your mother will be cross with you if you are not present to greet your father, or dressed in your training uniform to see him!"

"Damn!" Aomine cursed as he got up, briefly noting that it was already sundown — _Already?! When did that happen?!_ —, brushing aside the dust from his fall, throwing the bokken at his friend to put away, heading to his private chambers. "I forgot!"

In a new record of thirty-two minutes, a freshly showered Daiki with his sun-kissed skin peeking in the folds of deep indigo that was nearly ebony hakama, his obi a tan yellow that was accented with purple. Short, wet navy blue hair was tousled messily, as the boy sped over to the front of his home and to-be estate; smiling sheepishly to his mother's pointed glare as he stood beside her, Momoi sighing as she greeted the Madame of the Estate with a polite bow. Acknowledging the girl's bow, his mother was about to turn to him with a gleam in her sapphire eyes that promised a tongue-lashing when servant announced into the grounds, the servants and staff of the grounds all assembled.

"Announcing the arrival of High Commander Aomine!"

All fell to their knees as a tall and built man stepped through the gate, his hair cropped short like his son as narrowed indigo eyes glinted with confidence and happiness at sight of his family. Deep blue robes hid under blood-stained armor as a single silver blue katana adorned his waist, standing out under his ruby obi as he grinned in ebony tabi at his wife. "Commander Aomine, arriving home to his wife's care as promised."

Before she could reply, their son cut in.

"Father!"

Daiki, unlike his mother whose lip's quirked a tad at the playfulness of her husband, grinned widely before jumping into his father's arms, catching him with a playful groan. "Daiki! I see your mother was able to separate you from your training today."

"Actually, that would be to Satsuki-chan's credit, my lord." His mother mocked dryly as Momoi smiled, greeting the commander with a bow. "After throwing something at your son with my permission."

All of them laughing at Daiki's indignant yelp, the reunited family entered deeper into the estate, all seated comfortably with a table of delicacies and warm food before them; his parents to one side with Daiki and Satsuki on the other. However, it was after the meal that the true light of the situation came to play, the parents having sent their son and friend off to play under the supervision of their respective standby maids and servants. But being twelve-year-olds and Momoi being who she was, the twosome swiftly lost their aids and hid themselves under the porch that led to the gardens just outside of his father's private chambers, the Young Master dragged by the pink-haired fiend.

"The outskirts are stirring, wife. Nearly half of my scouts did not even make it back to the camps, the other half as close to death as the gods would allow for a man to speak his final words." His father's words were grim.

"Teiko's internal system is not as peaceful as they appear neither, my lord." His mother replied, pausing before continuing. "Tenno Heika* is growing more and more unstable with every sunrise, thinking that Teiko's empire is much too small; seeing how his legacy has been only the construction of an obscure temple." _Small?_ Aomine and Momoi exchanged incredulous looks. _The empire controlled over half the continent! How much more did they need?_ Unaware of the children's presence, she continued. "Needing more people for his whims and his frivolous needs, leaving the Prime Minister doing what he can to change his mind."

"The Royal Family is no longer divided then?" His father sounded bored.

"After Jou Heika* was able to dispose of Xu Jieyu by framing her and in the end taking her infant son as her own, the situation was resolved rather swiftly." His mother was unperturbed opposed to the children's pale faces. _They were speaking of the deaths of a favored concubine and a division of the Royal Family as if it were nothing!_

"It cannot be helped." His father shrugged, as the sound of sipped sake murmured afterwards. "Tenno Heika has ordered for me to return to the front lines."

His mother sounded worried for once, since the conversation began. "Now, my lord? Directly after this two-lunar long expedition?"

"Peace, wife. Not as of yet." His father replied. "But soon."

"But nonetheless, my lord; we are still the Prime Minister's dog. At his beck and call even after twelve years. _Pathetic_." Aomine froze at his mother's harsh words, as the sound of porcelain shattering destroyed the comfortable atmosphere.

"You have been negligent in my absence, _wife_."

"I apologize for my words, my lord."

Feeling a hard poke, Aomine snapped away from his parents' conversation with his mouth open to snap at his friend when she put her hand at his lips to silence him, gesturing with a manicured hand to return to the courtyard. Fifteen minutes later, the two of them stood in the night air, seemingly enjoying a walk when they were still reeling at the conversation that they had overheard.

"Oi, Satsuki. Did you know that my father was going to be returning to the front lines?" Aomine broke the silence as the girl narrowed her magenta eyes, appearing much older than she actually was. "Or that he was the Prime Minister's dog?"

"This is old news, Dai-chan." Momoi admitted, her face contemplative.

" _What?_ "

"Our parents are not as powerful as we think, Dai-chan. Or at least we would hope." Momoi whispered as she sighed, her magenta gaze weary. "My father is no better than yours as he is Tenno Heika's dog to which is why your father is going to be sent to the front lines again, if he is not at the capital; then he cannot help the Prime Minister. My father can only bow to Tenno Heika, like a hungry mongrel. The Prime Minister, is at this point, no different neither, having caught himself in a bind that only tolerating of Tenno Heika and his demands for now, which is why the motion of sending out your father has passed. The only thing I know for sure is that something big is going to happen, Dai-chan."

Daiki was pale. "What, Satsuki? What the hell is it?"

For the first time, the girl who had connections everywhere failed to answer.

* * *

Akashi Seijuurou stared, his ruby eyes disinterested as he watched from his jade embellished seat, the velvet cushion at the seat barely in sight behind the twelve-year-old's folds of an ebony hakama. Patterned with fearsome golden dragons and a ruby obi that finished with a golden knot, none paralleled the Young Master's cold monochromatic glare, despite being obscured lightly by scarlet bangs. Silently fanning himself with a gold embellished fan, the Young Master could have been mistaken for appreciating his estate's beautiful courtyard, but was instead, in the midst of a game of shogi. A rather easy one, might he add.

The Minister of Defense who was seated across the board, fidgeted for the fourth time in the past minute. His opponent was nervous. He should be. He was trapped and they both knew it was a matter of time until the younger claimed his victory. The fat nobleman deserved it to be beaten by a prodigal twelve-year-old, after his lack of mannerisms at first appearance. The old scum was drunk and unsightly as a young Akashi trailed after his father, having needed to see through the end of a deal, when the he appeared, chasing after the skirts of the nearby brothel. It was insulting as the two members of the Akashi family were greeted on wobbly knees and alcohol-condensed breath, and so; his father had incited a greeting in return.

To which whom the Prime Minister extended the following invitation: whomever triumphed against his son in a game of shogi, was then able to have the right to share the Akashi name in marriage. To have the Akashi heir as a son-in-law along with being in-law to the Prime Minister under a game of shogi was all too tempting to put off and not to mention a direct insult to the Akashi name if refused, they were not; none would dare. Even though it was well-known that they never lost. But as much as a young Akashi Seijuurou believed in this, there was one person that his father bowed to. The 71st Emperor and Ruler Apparent of the Great Teiko, Teiko Hideaki-heika. Seijuurou recalled his first encounter with the ruler of the nation and his father rather accurately, his greeting and bow perfect as he knelt a step behind his esteemed father. He was eleven.

"Great blessings to Tenno-Heika." He and his father knelt in the floorboards of the Hall of Mental Cultivation, the emperor seated on an exquisite throne as he waved a lazy hand for them rise. Standing, the young Akashi observed with narrowed ruby orbs, his hands hidden in the sleeves of his white-grape robes, hemmed with gold.

Tenno-Heika was adorned with golden robes that only he qualified to don, fearsome ruby-gold dragons in a mid-roar that cried for blood; hemmed beautifully and delicately with ebony and ruby threads. His ebony locks were pinned into an ornate top knot that was glided by a golden ornament, symbolizing his status more so. Obi a bright orange that depicted flying yellow phoenixes, the monarch fanned himself with a kind smile upon his face, brown eyes warm. "At ease. Prime Minister Akashi and son. What is the occasion for you to have come to visit me?"

"I have come to inform you of Commander Aomine's victory in the East, Tenno Heika. My private soldiers then are no longer needed and therefore, have taken the liberty to allow them retreat back to Teiko." His father's voice was persuasive and charismatic as the emperor nodded, almost with glazed eyes. _Almost too relaxed. Father is not comfortable._ Seijuurou mentally narrowed his eyes.

"Then you have assured that my requirements have been met?" _Requirements? Perhaps this is the reason for the inaccurate numbers of soldiers that Lady Momoi had reported to me._

"Have I never seen to it, Tenno-Heika?" His father was not questioning.

"Of course not. But you are aware what happens when they are not?" Only years of instilled obedience from his father kept him from flinching at the emperor's gaze, unnerving. It was kind, but gleaming with madness. As if he was euphoric on power, like an opponent with a new pawn to manipulate. "And I am not patient, Prime Minister."

"Yes, Tenno-Heika." _Father was obedient._

"But I am curious, why have you brought your son here?" Seijuurou did not move, despite the eyes that raked his body as if it were a new toy to play with. "He has inherited your looks very well." _Toy. A well-groomed toy._

"He is my heir and the one to take over when I am unable, Tenno-Heika." The monarch hummed as Seijuurou willed himself to still, praying upon his mother's name that he did not falter. _He didn't. He was absolute. Even before Tenno-Heika._

"I see. A handsome lad, this one. _Proper_."

Seijuurou bowed minimally. "Your compliments honor me, Tenno-Heika."

"I must speak to your father in private, son. My eunuch will give a tour of the palace while we speak, it will not be long. If there is anything that you require, do not hesitate to ask." The emperor assured with a kind smile to which the young boy returned before bowing and backtracking to his exit, allowing his red eyes to gleam with naivety. Catching his father's sharp gaze that many have noted that he had inherited, Seijuurou noted something in his father's eyes that had never seen before. Following the eunuch out of the Hall, the young master ignored the castrated man's words, his gaze even. _Was that regret in his father's eyes? But an Akashi never…_

"Young Master Akashi, if you would please follow—…"

"I have no intention of surveying the palace with you, Head Eunuch." Seijuurou cut in politely, his words commanding and stern. " _Do not follow me._ You may report to Tenno-Heika as you please but be aware of the consequences if you do. I will arrive back to your company before the Hall of Mental Cultivation before Tenno-Heika summons for me."

"B-But, young sir—?!" The elder man bowed, his gaze pleading.

Seijuurou rose a brow, but did not even look as the servant immediately cowered to his knees, well aware of the powerful Akashi name. Not to mention the temper and cruel punishments that followed it.

"T-Tenno-Heika has…"

"Certainly outranks my status." Seijuurou finished, his gaze on the Hall of Mental Cultivation. "And therefore, as a subject to Tenno-Heika's orders, my requirements are for you to await here at the Hall of Mental Cultivation upon my return."

"…" The eunuch was not stupid. "…Yes, young sir."

"Then you do know your place. There is no need to cut out your tongue after all." The nine-year-old boy thought aloud wistfully, the eunuch blanching as he reentered the Hall.

"Your son most certainly takes after you, Shinichi. But will he live up to expectations for that of my son?" The emperor was amused as Seijuurou listened, his perch upon a hidden pocket in the rooftops. "As you have, after your father had failed mine." _An Akashi…? Failed…? Grandfather perished in office due to old age, shortly after Father had taken over…_ Seijuurou rose a brow, listening.

"I would hope not, Heika." _Father was obedient._ "My records are flawless."

"So far." The emperor was no longer amused as he stood before kneeling at Father's eye level, eyes crazed. "But I need _more_ , Shinichi." He was whispering as Seijuro felt the breath in his lungs hold. "More. More. More. More. More. My pets, Shinichi! _My pets_! They are _so_ beautiful!" _Pets._ The younger Akashi snorted softly.

 _Father was obedient._ Seijuurou breathed out as the monarch continued. "But I don't have enough. You." The emperor laughed airily. "You promised me. That if I gave you the power to run the nation, you would give me all the pets that I want. Shinichi. I don't have anymore pets."

"I will inform Commander Aomine to send for the newest shipment of prisoners-of-war and Minister Shuzo to ferry the latest tribute of slave girls to the capital as soon as possible, Tenno-Heika." The heir watched his father bow, as a mixture of frozen horror consumed the young Akashi as several thoughts consumed his mind, his face dangerously blank. "Several of the previous month's reports of the nation's affairs were missing from the set I have received from you, Tenno-Heika. I ask of you to hand them over to me to review."

"Are you insinuating that I cannot review them because I am illiterate, Shinichi?" The monarch whispered as Akashi watched his father bow. _An Akashi never bows to anyone, Seijuurou. Then what are you doing, Father?_

"How can I, a lowly subject, dare suggest such a thing?" _How can you, Father, do such a thing?_ Seijuurou thought with calm anger. It was no secret that his father and the current ruler were childhood friends and yet, in one's descent to madness the other could only bow with pity. Brothers, bonded by friendship and war, were degraded into a madman without a crown and an arrogant noble who complied as long as he had power, at the expense of low classes that were used for the entertainment of said madman. _Father was obedient._

 _He wasn't._

It was after his mother's death that he had learned. That news of his mother's illness was sent to his father when he was in a Council Meeting, buried in Commander Aomine's reports of prisoners-of-war; like it was more important. He would not be like his father. Bowing to Tenno-Heika like an obedient pet on his beck and call, facading himself as a powerful man who held the entirety of Teiko, caring for the status of himself more than well-being of anyone but himself; Akashi Seijuurou vowed. _He would not lose to his father._

Teiko was not worth him saving or serving.

The twelve-year-old checkmated his opponent, his left eye gleaming a gold ominously for a moment as he fanned his form quietly. He was absolute, but without his army; he was defenseless. Seijuurou smirked. _Where have all the king's men scattered in this corrupt nation?_

* * *

 _Japanese / Chinese Romanization: MarkedWith*_

 _Jieyu - Lady of Handsome Fairness, Third-Class Lady of the Emperor's Harem_

 _Tenno Heika - The Imperial Emperor, His Majesty_

 _Jou Heika - The Imperial Empress, Her Majesty_


	2. The Beginning

Chapter 2: The Beginning

Nijimura Shuzo grimaced at the sight before him, more uncomfortable with the situation that he was presented with than he would let on. He was used to ordering others to follow his instructions with silent steps and implied directives in behavior, not obnoxiously loud stomping and explicit directives every gods-damned minute. _Gods._ The assassin cursed to the heavens as he glared at the men behind him — there were fifty, he had put his foot down at the insistence of a hundred — falling silent at the sight. There was no damned way he was going to get shit done with a herd of loud elephants in the form of soldiered men in a scouting mission. _Period._

After some convincing — death threats with a serrated blade does _wonders_ — he was in the clear. With half a mind to ditch his men, Nijimura trudged on, ordering several squadrons to search the desolate and ransacked village for survivors. The relations with neighboring nations were steadily becoming worse after High Commander Aomine was suddenly thrust back into the front lines by Tenno-Heika and not to mention, the disappearances of the wives in the Emperor's Harem. The assassin shook his head. This is what happens when one begins to advance in rank, the more powerful, the more headaches. Maybe he should have undertaken the offer that his old man had suggested about being a teacher at his academy.

"Captain Nijimura!" No time for that now.

Turning at the sound of his title and name, the assassin found a bowed soldier. "Have you found survivors?"

"We believe so, sir. But…" The man hesitated. "… we cannot verify if the inhabitant in the home is a survivor or a rogue scout from the other side. Shizemaru has yet to exit after he sent him in."

Nijimura's eyes narrowed. "You sent one man in there? How long has it been?"

"Y-Yes, sir. About fifteen minutes."

"Then your man is dead." The captain snapped as he strode toward the home, the night air warm. "Let me guess: The house is rundown but strong enough to stand in it's lasting years, has busted walls that do not let you see inside but harmless enough to appear like it's been pillaged through. And most importantly, it's covered in dust. How close am I?"

The man blanched. "…Exactly, sir."

Ignoring the looks of bewilderment from his men, the captain explained as they paused a few yards away from the house, dark but harmless. "It's an assassin's tactic that can only be employed with three conditions: One must be alone, armed with at least one weapon, and surrounded by overwhelming odds or at least suspect to be facing such odds."

"Sir, if there is just one person, I do not see the danger in us entering. We have them cornered in every exit." One soldier spoke up as the captain shook his head darkly.

"The house is run down for more than just the fact that it looks harmless, fool. If prepared with enough time, the house can be used to collapsed over us and in the midst of the chaos, they can escape. And not to mention the dust. The layer of dust is used as a meter for age of sorts, the more the home has, the longer it has been exposed to the elements." Nijimura narrowed his gaze. _These are not common tactics just taught to or by anyone though. These were tactics employed by assassins that trained the main branch of Teiko that ran the Shadowless World, who had secret agents in nearly every nation. Only those who knew of an agent knew about the secret society much less their tactics. Then who?_

Nijimura was only so lucky because his father — adopted old man, mind you — was formerly a member. Cursing inwardly, the captain turned to his second. "Hatsumoto. If I do not exit this house in two hours, you will send a scout out to High Commander Aomine and inform him that I have perished. He will take the appropriate actions from there."

"S-Sir." The subordinate bowed as Nijimura ignored them, his attention on the house. It was as he predicted, as vegetation had begun taking over the roof and one of the unbroken walls of the large home; vines and sheens of moss lustered under the moonlight so often as the assassin neared the front, the doors unhinged at the porch. The assassin stepped into home with one hand upon his blade, **_Chimera_** , his steps soft and undisturbed.

The air was silent. He took another step. And then a few more.

Several terse breaths later, he was fully enveloped in the darkness of the home, his men unable to see him anymore. _Something was wrong._ Nijimura thought to himself. _It was indeed the tactic of the Shadowless World but there was not a single trap sprung upon him like Shirogane had taught him._ It was then that Nijimura had realized that he was unable to move; his wrists, neck, and thighs thinly coiled with steel threads.

 _I found the trap._ Nijimura thought to himself lamely as he dared not to move.

 _Shadow strings._ Metal string that if woven correctly and terse enough was a formidable offense and defense, but was used for traps or tricks for the most part to assist rather than as a main weapon due to the consequences of it's usage. _So, who exactly was the one responsible?_

"Please stop. The other inhabitants of this village have already been slaughtered. If you do not order your men to stand down and allow me to leave peacefully, I am afraid I am going to have to take your life as well, captain of intruders-san if you do not identify yourself." A soft voice asked kindly, as Nijimura snapped his eyes to the formerly empty space in front of him. Hung like a hand puppet was one of his men, his throat slit in a perfectly straight line, wrists slashed vertically to the elbow mirrored upon his upper thigh. Eyes wide and fearful, they were also dead.

"Please identify yourself or you will end up like your subordinate."

Nijimura whirled mentally as his eyes searched wildly. There was no way _that kid_ was here. Catching a fade of pale blue, he mentally groaned as he came into focus, behind his latest victim; resigned, the captain spoke. "Captain Nijimura Shuzo of the Royal Teiko Imperial Army." _Of course, he was._

The teen was exactly as he had met him a few months ago, other than being several centimeters taller. Unlike the poor orphan that the assassin had met, however, this boy was dressed for battle. With two short katanas held up by an ebony obi under a matching sleeveless hakama, the boy was eerily silent, his face in a deadpan as blank orbs scrutinized the assassin. Embroidered in a light blue that matched his hair over his heart was a five-petaled blossom, so small that the captain almost overlooked it.

"Nijimura-senpai?" The boy blinked as the elder male felt the strings at his neck loosen a bit.

"In the flesh, kid." Nijimura answered with a shrug as he felt his bindings loosen fully, but did not fall away from his body. _A smart one, this one._

" _Domo_. What are you doing here, Nijimura-senpai?"

"Oi. Isn't that supposed to be my line, you brat? And didn't I tell you to call me Nijimura-nii?"

The tealnette merely blinked at him as Nijimura resisted the urge to facepalm. Disinterested, the teen fixed his sleeves to which caught the older's eye; ebony armguards that stretched from mid-fingers to his lower arm, ruby ribbons wrapped meticulously over them as Nijimura recognized that it was actually many threads of shadow strings. Hidden under the armguards was the extra protection that Nijimura had anticipated with the strings, as the strings were as susceptible to cutting their wielder just as severely as they were to their master's enemies.

"I am not a brat, Nijimura-senpai. I have a name as well. I am Kuroko Tetsuya."

"Wait. The hell are you doing here? Last time I checked, you were living in that orphanage in the other side of the empire, doing assignments in the dead of night. And how the hell do you know tactics of the Shadowless World?"

"It's more effective to ask one question at a time so that the interrogated person can answer all of them efficiently, Nijimura-senpai." _This polite little brat…_

Nijimura counted to three. "Okay. Let's start with the first one: What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"Please do not curse, Nijimura-senpai." The boy sighed as a soft whir came from his fingers, an idle warning that the younger still had the older at his mercy, strings still attached to his fingers to tighten. "After you had left, the relations in the North got worse to the point that my family along with the rest of the village had tried to escape in the dead of night, not wanting to end up like the rumors of fire and death by bandits. I insisted in staying, but they did not heed my words. They were all slaughtered. The men tied to one corner and the women in the other with the children in middle, myself unconscious still after my mother had drugged me, because of my stubbornness. The adults were all slaughtered violently by the time I had awoken: my father was beaten to death and my mother slashed with a single stroke of a blade after they were done with her. We were next, they said."

"Did you kill them?" Nijimura asked, his expression relaying nothing.

Kuroko mirrored it. "Yes. They were not my real parents but they were not unkind. Afterwards, I had made my way southward and had ended up here, when I heard that there were survivors here. But I have only found enemy scouts from Meiko in the area."

"Okay. One down." The assassin frowned. "Now, what the hell is a kid like you have business with being under an organization of the Shadowless World?"

The teal boy blinked at the assassin before a small smile colored his face. "You are not very informed of the Shadowless World, are you; Nijimura-senpai?"

"What was that?!" Kuroko ignored the dark aura around his senpai as he removed the strings from the older with a soft snip from the strings over his gloved fingers. Doing the same with the body that scared the living daylights out of his senpai — he was later sworn never to tell —, the ebony-haired male addressed another topic. "Oi. Why is this idiot dead?"

"Ah. It was an accident. I was fixing my strings when he tripped over my body and landed on one of my katanas, that were just polished and sharpened, slitting his throat." _That idiot deserved it. Forty-nine out of fifty… technically, he passed._ Nijimura paused, something else catching his attention _. Why was his wrists and thighs sliced as well?_

Voicing the question to Kuroko, the teal-head looked at him with a solemn expression that bordered with a deadpan of indifference. "It was to allow him to die faster, to bleed swiftly so that he would descend to the netherworld painlessly after I had carelessly scared him into his death." _…And now, I feel bad._

"So now, what are you going to do…?"

The boy shrugged. "I do not have any plans in particular, Nijimura-senpai."

It took him a minute to think about it before the thought occurred to him. He was going to do this because he owed the kid. _That's it._ Outstretching a hand, the older assassin smiled at the younger one, gripping his shoulder as he made his offer. "Come to school with me, my kouhai."

He was _totally_ the cool senpai.

* * *

Kise frowned, his displeasure in plain sight as he folded his arms over his chest in impatience, ignoring the unnerved shifts of his servants. As an important member of the empire's society — the esteemed and honored vessel of the Sun God — the blonde was seldom alone, not by choice as an entire entourage was obviously not enough when one could also have a horde of desperate worshippers. Unlike those mindless idiots, these servants had no choice but to follow him. From the moment his chambermaid hooked the golden hair piece that held his high ponytail into his golden locks to the moment he removed his azul and ebony robes to retire for the night, he was subject to their subtle — not really — stalking.

"Midorimacchi is late." The blonde whined in a higher pitch than usual, crinkling his beautifully ironed robes. "He said that he would be here an hour after daybreak."

"Kise-sama, perhaps you should…"

Golden topazes glazed at the servant that dared to speak, the youthful prophet's voice was almost chilling. "You dare to speak to me and out of turn at that…?"

Before it became a happy-go-lucky laugh as the blonde boy grinned crookedly at the servants' nearly knelt forms, ready to beg for forgiveness for such bold actions before the realization of their young master's antics. "Kise-sama…!"

"My apologies!" Kise smiled amusedly, his topaz eyes glittering with cold mirth. "It was too tempting resist. Can you allow me this little bit of entertainment in exchange for a moment of your confusion?"

Swooning at the velvety words, the servants soon found themselves dismissed, forgetting the orders of their Mistress and High Priestess that was Kise's mother. Hm, perhaps his mother's teachings of smiling in mastery was a skill that had more pros than he had initially realized. The courtyard was clear of persons other than the occasional guard, making the heir to the house very much alone and therefore, able to collect his thoughts. But before that could even happen, his guest had arrived. Walking into the courtyard with the pride of nobility, the green-haired cohort of the blonde rose his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, his robes a soft teal as white veins of embroidery that displayed young cranes taking flight on the silk. An ebony obi held up his robes as he frowned with jade eyes at the blonde who greeted him with much enthusiasm, fingers wrapped with thin bandages as his expression grew annoyed, his own low ponytail adorned with a black pin.

"MIDORIMACCHI~! I missed you so much! You're late in visit—!"

"Shut up, Kise. I am not here to visit you."

"How mean!" The blonde recoiled in mock-hurt as he pouted. "And here I thought Midorimacchi was not a complete tsundere."

"Enough, Kise. I get enough of this stupidity from Takao, I do not need anymore in supply of idiocy from you. I am here for the report from the gods for the following week." The chartreuse male pulled out a red envelope in his sleeve, the golden emblem on the silk all too bright as he handed it to the blonde. "And as a messenger, Akashi sends his regards. You are to read it in your private chambers tonight, _alone_."

"Akashicchi…" Topaz gems gleamed with rare seriousness. "Does he think it's time? While Aominecchi's father is out of the capital and the mess within the Imperial Harem, not to mention, his own father's movements?"

"You know as well as I do that Akashi does not converse with me his plans anymore than he does with the rest of us. Even with all the data collection from Momoi leaves her stumped when it comes to Akashi, not that I care or anything of the sort." Midorima frowned as he gestured to the letter in Kise's hands. "We are all suppose to read the letter at the same time, even though I had received them all at first along with my own a week ago."

"Momoicchi has one too?"

"Only Aomine. Momoi will hear from Akashi eventually, apparently." Midorima rose the frame of his glasses. "But Akashi had another envelope in his and said that he would personally deliver that one. And it's not for Momoi."

"Eh? Who is that one for?"

"I presume another piece." Midorima replied, as he held a silk handkerchief that displayed a badly concealed murder, as Kise labeled it a lucky item; silent as they collected their thoughts. Despite knowing Kise for longer than Akashi, the physician's son was more acquainted with the latter due to their many matches and the same for Aomine when it came to Kise and Akashi, the commander's son more converse with the blonde despite arguing for a majority of the time. But all of them were Akashi's pieces. He only needed two more.

"The question here, Kise, is which piece has Akashi found?"

Kise had no answer.

Surveying the area for a moment, Midorima noted that they were alone.

"It appears that you have become more competent, Kise." Kise did not know whether or not to jump for joy or glomp the tsundere for the rare compliment. He did both.

"MIDORIMACCHI~! You do care!"

Dodging, the green-haired male scowled as he stood over the blonde. "I was speaking about your servants. For once you were able to find some that were below your intelligence, that you actually tricked them into leaving you alone early for once."

"How mean~!"

Hours later, after giving Midorima a list of lucky items that were preordained by the gods, he was finally alone in his rooms at the end of the day. Flipping the ruby silk envelope and carefully removing the seal, Kise revealed the letter, his visage barely seen in the sole candlelight of the chambers. The orange flame lit the message enough for the blonde to read, his topaz gaze confused.

 ** _You all are to attend Teiko Royal Academy. This is an order. I expect all of you to be present for the first day of class and absences will not be tolerated. I guaranteed that our applications to the academy will be bypassed, no matter how close you all may place it on the deadline, as well as taken the liberty to send you all your custom uniforms. I presume that you all can get the rest of your things in time for class. — Akashi Seijuurou_**

"… Akashicchi is telling us to go to SCHOOL?!"

* * *

Murasakibara Atsushi was lost and unlike many twelve-year-olds, he was not particularly bothered by it. He was wandering the marketplace as usual of his day before returning to his tasks, now that his elder brothers were all sent to the frontline from the sudden draft, himself too young to enter. He had grown once more, not that it was much of a surprise as the only direction he seemed to be going was up, physically. His elder sister now ran the family business now that their father was found dead a week ago, his corpse thrown aside like trash.

Atsushi did not cry. His father was dead. But in all honesty, he had seen his siblings more than he had seen his father, therefore took up little to almost no presence in his immature mind. His Nee-chan only smiled sadly before saying it was their mother's fault for dying when he was born and therefore, that was all Atsushi really knew.

Regardless, he was lost.

With several mochi in hand with a smear of rice flour over chewing lips, the twelve-year-old had trespassed into the richer side of the marketplace, the norm unspoken that it was off-limits to those below the status of a noble. For some reason he could not recall, he had wandered here. Humming in a half-heart contemplate, Murasakibara's small frown was hidden in the cascade of violet hair, a single lock down his face.

"Are you lost?" Humming, Atsushi looked down to see a shorter boy that was his age, his eyes a blood red with short locks to match. He was dressed simply, yet even Atsushi was able to tell that the redhead was of higher ranking; despite his dark brown robes and ebony hair piece that tied back all but his bangs to a short ponytail.

"Hm… Yes." Murasakibara admitted simply, as the redhead hummed, eyes amused. "… But who are you?"

"Where are my manners?" The redhead smiled lightly, before glancing to the shadows momentarily. "My name is Akashi Seijuurou."

"Murasakibara Atsushi."

"Murasakibara, then. Would you like to have me take you back home? Those of your status, if you will forgive me to state, are not particularly kind to have you present in this area." Akashi asked politely, but Murasakibara had the feeling that the suggestion was more of an order. Nodding, the giant followed the much shorter boy, only to find that he was out of snacks. The horror.

Noticing the pinched face of his new potential piece, the redhead blinked before putting the two and two together before chuckling softly. Signaling one of his servants to near after he had ordered them to station within the vicinity after Murasakibara had arrived, Akashi quickly relayed his orders. Within a minute, a set of fresh corn snacks was in the redhead's hands as the giant turned to him, mouth beginning to drool.

"Maibo~" Murasakibara cooed happily as the snack was held out to him before he was able to ask. "… Are you sure~?"

"Yes, Murasakibara. They are for you."

"Thank you, Aka-chin~!"

"Aka-chin?" Akashi echoed with an air of mirth as the giant nodded, munching on the food immediately.

"Only people I respect and give me food are called by that, Aka-chin."

"I see." Akashi accepted before gesturing to one general direction. "Then, shall we, Murasakibara?"

Nodding his consent absently, the two of them set off, the redhead leading as they made their way to the home of the Murasakibaras' despite the giant never mentioning where he lived. Stopping before the front gates, the giant spoke first to the amused surprise of Akashi. "What is it that you want from me, Aka-chin?"

"You are not as lazy as you portray yourself, are you; Murasakibara?"

"Hm. Aka-chin doesn't appear to be the type to be doing things for no reason." Murasakibara stated absently, almost dull as he seated himself at the porch, eye-level with a standing Akashi. "I just don't care for those who try so hard. It's too troublesome."

"I see. But in any case, I am honored by your compliment, Murasakibara. However, you are correct. I have not come here to speak to you of trivial matters." Akashi conceded before his gaze narrowed. "What can you tell me of your late father, Murasakibara?"

"Saa~ Father died. Nee-chan said that he got caught in a big order from the outskirts of the kingdom, and he 'knew too much.' I don't particularly have a great interest in his death or him in general." The twelve-year-old muttered as the red one rose a brow, but chose to not comment. "All of my Nii-chans don't know of his death yet, but Nee-chan told me to take care of it."

"And did you, Murasakibara?"

"Mhm." The giant nodded, as he licked a stick of taffy from his pocket.

Akashi smirked ever so slightly before his expression was relaxed once more, his ruby eyes gleaming as he held a similarly colored envelope in his hands. "Murasakibara, would you hear out a proposition of mine?"

"Aka-chin?" The purple giant furrowed his brow as Akashi smirked amusedly as if he knew what the former would ask.

"Yes, Murasakibara?" He did anyway.

"What's a proposition?" Oh, this was going to be _fun_. Akashi smirked kindly ever so slightly before he explained.

* * *

Teiko Royal Academy, named appropriately after the great empire of which the institution taught for her most gifted children. The foreground of future leaders of the nation, it was where allies and adversaries were made, whomever had the greatest, had subsequently the power as the greatest. Despite the overarching norm of hiring aids and governesses to watch over the young masters and mistresses, the institution was imperative to attend. However, the academy only permitted students that have been recommended with the appropriate paperwork and authorization, the Academy as it had been called for short was also where Kuroko Tetsuya currently found himself, donned in the uniform with a thin scroll in his hands. He had lost Nijimura-senpai when the other had turned to speak to a friend, the former deciding to wander off on the first day of the Academy.

It had been less than a month since he had arrived at the capitol and into the House of Shirogane, where Shirogane Kozo welcomed the young boy who followed his adopted son. After dropping off the men with his resignation as captain, the twosome arrived to the mansion, prompting to dress themselves and bathe before they presented themselves to the head of the house. Dressed in a charcoal grey kimono with silver lilies patterning the sleeves as a light blue obi held up his robes, Kuroko pulled out a thin white ribbon, tying gentle locks that teased at the base of his neck into a small ponytail.

"Kuro—…" Nijimura began before pausing, catching sight of the ribbon.

He had seen that knot before. His father had tied the simple knot in his own ponytail seven years ago, his expression solemn when a simple letter was delivered that night. It was unusual and remembered for the hour of which it had arrived, in the dead of night from the Shadowless World. Shaking himself from the memory, the former captain entered the chambers first, Kuroko outside.

"Kuroko Tetsuya, you say? Are you sure, Shuzo?" The old man was tense, as if the young boy's name was forbidden to be heard by certain parties. Nodding slowly with narrowed eyes, the assassin replied an affirmative to the elder one.

"Show him in." Shirogane ordered.

"No need." A disembodied voice stated flatly as the twosome calmed their hearts at the fact that Kuroko was seated beside Nijimura comfortably across the elder man with an desk in-between them, a calligraphy set ready for use. "I am already here, Shirogane-sensei."

"Kuroko-sama." Shirogane smiled sardonically. "Your low presence has not waned in the least. The last I have heard of you was seven years ago and here you are, alive. I am glad to see that the rumors were not true, at least entirely."

"So am I." Kuroko nodded as the old man chuckled, his expression kind. "You have also hidden yourself in the empire well."

"Not as well as you, I'm afraid."

"Wait." Nijimura cut in, both of them turning to the assassin, as if they had just realized that he was here, unfazed by the narrowed coal gaze. "What are you two talking about? And you two know each other?"

"Shuzo. Can you please leave us for a moment?" It was not an invitation.

Kuroko remained unmoved as Nijimura made his exit. It was none of his concern on whether Nijimura was to be informed of his history or not but it was not in his nature to indulge others in his past. He had no wish to relive them to sate others' curiosity. But in the meantime, it was his concern, however, of the state of Teiko. The outskirts were worse than he had expected and the response of a week to address this was poor. High Commander Aomine's absence within the capital was impactful in that Tenno-Heika appeared foolish to send his best piece to be thrown aside, while the Prime Minister was reduced to a sacrificial pawn. Not to mention the deaths of the concubines, which were the topic of unrest within the capital; the mad king was descending swiftly. The nation was beyond saving.

"It has been seven years since your mother has left us, Kuroko-sama."

Kuroko's face remained unchanged. "Yes."

"And since then, you have become of age to lead us, the Shadowless World. Is this your first order as our Master, Kuroko-sama?" Shirogane questioned, his eyebrow risen. "However, a pity that your mother has left us so early, protecting you ironically enough. Your descent to becoming the Black King will be more difficult than your mother's."

"I tire of talk over the dispute for the throne, Shirogane-sensei." Kuroko stated bluntly. "If I had wanted to converse over this, I wouldn't have left with your son and would have stayed in the outskirts of the empire."

"Then do tell, Kuroko-sama. Why have you come to my humble home?"

"I wish to observe the Teiko that my mother left behind." Kuroko nodded. "She had fought hard and long for most of her reign to preserve this nation that has known nothing but victory and I wish to see what is it that Teiko was so worth saving."

It was then that the nobleman offered for the child of his late Mistress entry to Teiko Royal Academy, the costs and provisions for his admission covered by the Headmaster — himself — to learn and see what it was that Teiko had to offer. By being a student of the Academy, it displayed that he had suitable influence in Teiko and would at the same time have exposure to the politics, power, and runnings of the empire up close and personal. Sealing the scroll, Kuroko adjusted his navy headband, covering his forehead as it matched with the rest of his uniform, a white hakama with a navy haori under a violet obi. Shirogane-sensei had insisted that the invisible now student use a custom uniform that included a white jade ornament at the waist, to symbolize nobility and given to those who were sons of high ranked nobles, but the assassin refused.

The last thing Kuroko wished was to attract attention. It was against his low presence and occupation. But more importantly, it was straight up uncomfortable.

Entering the classroom early, Kuroko seated himself in the back, his gaze still transfixed on his scroll. Slowly, one by one filtered in students, Kuroko paying them no mind as they would not notice him. It was not like he was noticed very often anyway. Sighing in resignation of his fate, Kuroko Tetsuya continued to read.

That is until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Is this seat taken?"

Icy blue globes met calculatingly cold rubies, both calmly observing the other for similar reasons. _How did **he** notice **me** so fast? How did **I** not notice **him** right away?_

Kuroko blinked before shaking his head, consenting for the other to sit.

Thanking him, the red-head smiled charismatically as he seated himself on the tatami mats beside Kuroko, donned in the same uniform with a visible jade ornament at his waist. After setting his own scrolls and calligraphy set to get ready for class, the other boy turned back to Kuroko. "I am Akashi Seijuurou. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Kuroko Tetsuya. It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Akashi-kun."

By this time, their professor had made his timely appearance, students scrambling quietly to their seats. Akashi and Kuroko turned away from one another and looked to the front of the room, an interested gleam on garnet jewels as azure opals glimmered blankly. As classes were, eventually after introductions, the true lecture began; the students all diligently taken into writing notes and trying to understand the barrage of education. It was not until intermission between the lectures that the two of them were able to speak once more, Akashi initiating the conversation once more.

"Do you have any plans after classes, Kuroko?" Akashi smiled, his words more of a command rather than a suggestion. "I would be pleased if you would accompany me."

Nevertheless, Kuroko nodded. "I do not mind, Akashi-kun."

"Wonderful. I would like you to meet several of my acquaintances." Akashi smiled mysteriously as he fingered a red envelope in his sleeve. _I have found **you**._

From this point, one thing must be addressed.

The Teiko Royal Academy was later known for not the intellectual prestige of her halls of learning but rather; for the rise of the new revolution beginning with the gathering of the six members of what was later known as Kiseki no Sedai, the future founders of the kingdoms that stood tall, over the rubble of Teiko.

And this was only the beginning.


	3. First Impressions (not)

Chapter 3: First Impressions (not)

After classes were finally finished and done for the day, Kuroko could only sigh lightly in relief before collecting his things. Akashi had extended the meeting with Kuroko and the others to be after they had accommodated themselves to their dorms upon Kuroko's request, to which Akashi up took an amused smirk before nodding his consent. Unlike the upperclassmen, the first-years of Teiko Academy were required to live in the dorms provided by the school, to better integrate them into the school as well as their cohorts. But checking into their dormitories were due for the late afternoon, the entrance ceremony from this morning quite the boisterous affair. Standing, Kuroko had exited his class with a small map in hand, trying to direct himself to the library when he was, quite literally, run over.

"Ow! I think I ran into something…"

Kuroko never before saw a more gorgeous male to don an expensive school uniform so disgustingly well. Silkened golden locks that made the precious metal dull with envy and brilliant topazes that glowed with the ferocity of small suns, the male that had fallen over him pouted pink lips as he looked at his hands, scanning them for damage. His expression unchanging from it's blank mask, the bluenette decided to make his presence known.

" _Ano_. Can you please get off of me, blonde-san?"

" _UWAH?!_ GHOST?!" The blonde jumped as he leaped in fright, still not seeing Kuroko who had stood, his expression unamused.

"Please do not call me that. I am not a ghost, blonde-san. I am a living person as well." The blonde flinched as he finally saw Kuroko a few feet away from him, his uniform a bit dirtied but was soon smoothed out. Smiling, the blonde quickly recomposed himself before bowing a bit. "I'm sorry for that and running into you, I was in a bit of a rush. Are you alright? My name's Kise Ryota."

"Kuroko Tetsuya." The shadow nodded. "I'm fine."

The blonde waited. _It was coming. Soon enough, this boy would be doing the same, groveling at his feet and begging for forgiveness to dare to run into the sun god's vessel. Just like everyone else, but_ ** _them_** _._ But Kuroko did none of these things. Instead, the phantom blinked at the blonde's smile before gathering his bag and map, making to walk away when he paused, turning to the blonde, who's smile faded into a confused one.

"Please stop smiling if you don't feel like it, Kise-kun. It's _annoying_."

Kise froze before smiling once more, his lips moving to form a denial when the shadow cut in once more, his words blunt and biting. "Those who smile the prettiest have the darkest of secrets and insecurities, Kise-kun. I do not want to see them if they are not real."

"… Not real." Kise echoed as a smile colored his lips. _Akashicchi was right._ ** _He_** _did find him. Finally… a **q**_ ** _ueen_** _who can…_

"This one is real." Was Kuroko's retort as the blonde laughed, a larger and more sincere grin replacing the other before he had latched into the smaller male with an octopus-like hug. "It's amazing for you to notice it! Can I call you, _Kurokocchi_?! I only call those who are close to me by that, adding the -cchi to the ends of their name! Can I?! Can I?!"

"Please let go of me, Kise-kun. And no. You may not."

" _Eh?!_ How mean, Kurokocchi! Why not?!" The blonde was still hugging him.

"Because we are not particularly close."

"How mean!" He was _still_ hugging him.

Using his low presence and with more than a few sighs escaping his lips, the phantom had managed to escape the clingy blonde who was surprisingly attached to him, leaving him searching for his 'Kurokocchi'. Finally at the library, Kuroko filed through the selection of textbooks and manuscripts when he had realized that had more than ten in hand in the form of three scrolls and seven pamphlets, while pursuing another one. Finding no place to set them aside and due to the fact that no book deserved the fate of being on the floor for any duration of time, the shadow reached for the eleventh one with difficulty when he felt the weight of the books lift from his arm.

"Ara? There are books are floating in mid-air~" A lazy voice hummed as Kuroko turned, to see a large and tall torso that was donned in the same uniform he wore with the exception of a jade pendant, a long arm holding his books. Looking up at the tall first-year, the shadow met half-lidded amethysts veiled by violet bangs over the headband that they shared, the single stripe at the right sleeve an indication of their year as the tall cohort finally noticed the much smaller one. "Hm? Someone was carrying these books, after all~"

" _Domo_." Kuroko greeted as he now held the eleventh book, thanking the taller for giving back his books. "Thank you for carrying them for me while I had to get another one. My name is Kuroko Tetsuya."

"Murasakibara Atsushi." The taller male drawled back as he reached into his sleeve, only to up empty with a pout. "I'm out of snacks…"

Kuroko rose an eyebrow on his deadpanned expression before holding out a stick of hard taffy that Nijimura-senpai had given — read: forced upon after learning about Kuroko's diet — him. "It's not much but you can have this, Murasakibara-kun."

"Eh?" The giant was glowing with happiness. This was the liveliest he had ever seen the taller, not that he knew him in any more regard then right now. "Really~? I can have it?"

Kuroko nodded as the much larger hand plucked the candy from his own. "Thank you, Kuro-chin~"

The shadow blinked. "Kuro-chin?"

"Kuro-chin is Kuro-chin." Murasakibara stated as if it explained everything before he glanced at the hourglasses placed for students to distinguish time. "I need to go now, Aka-chin has summoned us. Bye, Kuro-chin~"

 _Aka-chin? He must be referring to Akashi-kun._ Kuroko thought as he slightly bowed to the taller before walking off. "It was nice to meet you, Murasakibara-kun."

"Hm. Bye, Kuro-chin~"

With his books in hand and packed into his bag, the young assassin moved slowly, in no particular rush to his destination of an isolated courtyard was on the school grounds, seating himself at the feet of a green-leafed sakura tree. Opening one of them, Kuroko was soon lost into the realm he was all too well acquainted with, taking solace in the quiet. The main character was in the turbulent decision, with the fate of his nation in one and his family in the other, thoughts of loyalty and betrayal marring his pacifistic views. Blank teal eyes cleaved through the story swiftly as the phantom hungered for more information, when the snap of a branch with the following of a loud curse took him from his noble endeavor. Glancing over, Kuroko found another first-year who was similarly as tall as Kise, his tanned skin doing nothing to hide the annoyed scowl on his face, matched with piercing sapphires. Pointed leaves stuck to his wayward hair, short even behind the headband of their uniform; as Kuroko doubted that the taller boy had even realized he was sitting right next to where he had fallen.

"Are you okay?" Kuroko asked, his voice soft.

Aomine was not scared. Just to make _that_ clear. Slowly, the commander's son turned to the space next to him. _Nothing. Nothing but a bag and some books. See, nothing… to… to… worry-y… about…_

"Are you okay?" Kuroko repeated, as he neared the taller male, genuinely concerned. But to his surprise, the tanned teen befell to his knees, hands clapped into a prayer as he incanted swiftly a spell of some sort to ward off demons and otherworldly beings that had surely come to claim his soul. Skin pale and cringing with fear, the commander's son was reduced to a quivering mess.

"Excuse me, those incantations will not work on me. I am not a ghost or otherworldly being here to haunt you. I am _still_ a living human." Kuroko deadpanned as the tanned teen finally looked up to the now standing phantom who stared back at him with blank eyes and an expressionless look. The boy was, as he stated, most _definitely_ human.

"… Eh? Who the hell are you and how long have you been standing there?!"

"It is impolite to demand the names of others before giving your own." Kuroko scolded monotonously as Aomine blushed darkly. "But my name is Kuroko Tetsuya, and I have been here before you fell from the tree."

"My bad." The dark-skinned male scratched his head, apologetic but appearing to have no idea how to voice it. "Aomine Daiki. Sorry 'bout the whole ghost thing. I didn't see you there."

Kuroko waved it aside. "I have low presence. And it's not Aomine-kun's fault that he's easily distracted."

"Oi!" Kuroko paid the taller's scowl with no heed, but instead blinked at the sun's position. It was soon time for dormitory check-ins. Excusing himself with a small bow that the general's son did not notice, the assassin headed towards the dorms. They were sparse and freshly cleaned, made to accommodate two per room; the space big enough for two futons for each student along with a cabinet, desk, sets of lanterns for studying light and a closet. All other personal items and other accommodations were expected to be supplied by the students out of pocket. Each room was closed by a set of paper doors, that was only accessible by key, that opened outward towards an elevated porch, hiding shoes underneath upon entrance. Outlooking to a courtyard of young oaks, the dorms were well suited for an academy that claimed to be the best, her new arrivals crowding over the listings of roommates.

Avoiding bodies of other first-years and of the sense, Kuroko was pushed toward the front of the bulletin that displayed their names with vertical kanji, the writing simple and delicate to read. Scanning the papyrus, the phantom blinked in surprise to find that his name… was absent from the listing.

 _Yes, he had a low presence that many did not note his existence or person. But for Shirogane-sensei to overlook him? There was no way, unless…_ Kuroko shrugged noncommittally before walking away from the dorms, ending up at an isolated courtyard. Taking out a book to bar anyone from speaking to him — not that they could see him in the first place — Kuroko did not await long before someone arrived, his expression in a default scowl as he nursed a golden trinket that someone once informed him that was a device used to pinpoint directions, in a bandaged hand.

This male was tall — _was it a norm for the people he encountered to be taller than him?_ — to be above Aomine's height but wavering to Murasakibara's towering one. Peridot emeralds gleamed with intelligence behind thin glasses that Kuroko was informed to correct sight from one of his subordinates, as the male made his way to toward the invisible bluenette, who continued to read his book with content after glancing at the young green noble, jade pendant glinting in the setting sun. Lanterns most likely lit by the boy servants of the grounds allowed enough light to shade over them, sharing a bench — one knowing, the other not —, the silence comfortable until a soft curse from the taller took the smaller from his text. The male was filing through his own bag with a deeper scowl, as he sifted through the compartment only to come up empty as he muttered a name, ' _Takao_ ' accompanied by a textbook title.

"I have an extra copy." Kuroko offered, as the noble flinched beside him. Shock colored his face before he registered that it was indeed a person next to him, Midorima cleared his throat before he salvaged his composure.

"Y-You heard that?" Kuroko nodded before apologizing.

"It was not my intention to eavesdrop, but I was here before you had arrived." Midorima held back a gape as he stared at the boy in surprise as the phantom introduced himself. "My name is Kuroko Tetsuya. It is nice to meet you."

"Midorima Shintarou, the Month of the Goat. It is nice to meet you as well. You had said something about having a copy of the required textbook for History?"

"Ah, yes." Kuroko nodded expressionlessly before fishing out the text and handing it to Midorima. "My older brother had mistakenly purchased one too many of my textbooks. I am glad that I can give it to Midorima-kun for it to be of good use."

"Thank you." Midorima grunted, blushing lightly before his eyes became stern. "Kuroko. What month were you born in?"

Kuroko displayed no indication of his thoughts of the odd question. "I was born in the Month of the Ox, Midorima-kun."

"I see." Midorima nodded pensively, looking at his lucky item. "The gods had preordained that my day would be assisted by those who were not compatible of my month, my item of recommendation has as well, displayed great assistance. As man proposes, the gods disposes." Glancing at the bluette, the green-haired male sighed, before continuing. "The gods warn you to take care of those you meet upon this day and that all roads lead to a sole answer upon your choosing. It is fateful day to be of your month. Your recommended item is a jade pendant."

Kuroko blinked at the torrent of words before smiling softly in realization.

"Thank you for your concern, Midorima-kun. But I think I'll be fine."

The doctor's son scowled as he looked away with a faint blush. "D-Do not speak of nonsense, Kuroko! I am merely repaying you after you have gifted me your textbook. Nothing more."

Smile gone but with a hint of amusement in sky blue globes, the assassin nodded, when a blur of blonde arrived, his smile radiant.

"MIDORIMACCHI~! It looks like we're the first ones to arrive! Have you seen Aominecchi, Murasakibaracchi, or Akashicchi?! Ne, Ne! I met _him_ today, who's so cool! Ne, ne; have you —?!"

"Shut up, Kise." Midorima scoffed at the unfinished question. "You're being annoying."

"Tch." Three heads whirled to see a half-sleep Aomine trudge in with a snacking Murasakibara, lips busy with a handful of mochi behind him. "You say that like this dumbass isn't annoying all the time."

"How mean, Aominecchi!" The blonde pouted before getting into an argument with the navy-haired other, Kuroko watching all of them with a deadpan, appearing disinterested when Murasakibara neared him and Midorima, who had probably forgotten that he was sitting next to him. He did.

Kuroko pursed his lips ever so slightly. _Shame. The doctor's son was very sharp as well as odd. But not as sharp as Akashi-kun._

"Mido-chin, where's Aka-chin?" The purple giant inquired, as the addressed male sighed. "I thought we were all suppose to be here by sunset."

"Akashi has the tendency to be late in meetings, that is merely how he is, Murasakibara." Midorima informed before sighing as if he did not want to be there. _Liar_.

"I have left you all waiting." A cool and commanding voice cut in smoothly as Akashi made his appearance, heterochromic eyes catching all five of them. _He noticed me now._ "Now that the six of us have gathered, we can now discuss why I have asked you all to attend this academy."

"Um, Akashi? There are only five of us here."

"Do not be rude, Aomine." Akashi scolded lightly before turning to Kuroko, who became visible to everyone else. From Kise's startled yelp to Murasakibara's slow blink, the other four — including Midorima — jumped at the sudden appearance of Kuroko, who was there the entire time. To which he informed all of them when Kise voiced the question before moving to hug the assassin, Kuroko sidestepped, allowing the blonde to crash into the bench with an annoyed Midorima overlooking his whining self. None of them felt inclined to assist the blonde.

Kuroko was unfazed as he greeted everyone else. "It is nice to see you all again, Midorima-kun. Murasakibara-kun. Aomine-kun. Akashi-kun."

"What about me, Kurokocchi?!" Kise was ignored.

"Yes, and it appears that I do not have to do much of any introductions." Akashi smiled knowingly before turning to Kuroko with a bemused expression. "Impressive, Kuroko."

"Not at all, Akashi-kun." Kuroko stated monotonously. "It was mere coincidence." _Ha._

"But to the matter at hand…" Akashi cleared his throat, receiving all the attention of the five others with the swiftness of subordinates of a sovereign. "… I will divulge upon my sudden orders after we have accommodated ourselves in our residence hall."

"Our residence hall?" Aomine echoed confusedly.

"But of course, Aomine." Akashi's smile widened. "Did you really think that I would live in such an excuse of a dormitory?"

"…"

* * *

 _Kuroko Tetsuya._ Akashi tried upon his thoughts as he watched the assassin exit the classroom with soundless footsteps. Even Momoi's subordinates and network could not pinpoint exactly who the new arrival to Headmaster Shirogane's home was, his presence and existence an enigma within itself. To the extent that in her initial sweep of the networks, he was overlooked by the both of them. Impressive feat in it's own unique way.

It was only a few months since he had introduced Murasakibara to the others, the tall giant having taken the liking to follow him. Not that Akashi minded in particular. It was strangely endearing in it's own way. He was nearly set with his pieces, with one — arguably, the most important — missing.

 _Could you prove to be worthy of becoming my piece, Kuroko? Or should I say, **my** Tetsuya?_

Akashi smiled inwardly.

* * *

Lifting a pale arm, the light blue-haired boy stared dazedly with blank eyes as the servants dressed him in cream robes, patterned with silvery winds with ebony accents. The obi a striking ruby, the servants receded when their work was finished; leaving their new young master to his devices after tying his ponytail in a low fashion just as he had requested. It was a month and yet he was still not used to the norm of servants dressing his person as if he were the most fragile piece of glass. His mother, herself had only dressed him until the age of three when he was able to fend for himself; dressing, cooking, and cleaning were simple after his first kill. Everything was easier after his first kill.

Commanding the memories to disappear from his mind, the boy traveled back to his thoughts of his new… friends… if he could call them that…

 _Kise Ryota_ was eccentric, for the lack of a better term. Rumored to be the vessel of the revered sun god, there was never an instance where someone was not groveling at his feet. And the smile. The infamous smile that foretold that blessings would arrive was nothing more a facsimile of what it truly was. **Fake**. **Disillusion**. Kuroko's eyes narrowed as he wrote a name. _Murasakibara Atsushi_ was indifferent, which made him interesting. Son of a middle-class merchant and yet, he was able to attend the Royal Academy with almost envious ease as a newly endowed noble. Not that Kuroko couldn't be argued to be in the same situation, he was not the only one with powerful allies apparently. **Disinterested** , yet **interested** enough to be so close. How very interesting, indeed. Kuroko noted another. _Aomine Daiki_ was rough. Likeness to an uncut diamond, he could still be mended and molded into the powerful gem that he had the potential to be, but done haphazardly, the cut could be too much or too little. Son of a military commander and yet, so pure and untouched. **Bright**. Almost **blinding**. Kuroko paused, but writing another. _Midorima Shintarou_ was a liar. His bandaged hands that held the power to heal and kill, almost godly and holy; gripped the vestiges of his faith so earnestly. He claims to not care when he is the one who cares the most, his words foolhardy and actions almost amusedly awkward. **Lying** , yet **loyal**. **Strong** , yet so **fragile**. Kuroko wrote with a sliver of mirth. _Akashi Seijuurou_ was the reason he was in capitol. Commanding and a leader to be obeyed, the Prime Minister's son had no flaw. Kuroko frowned. Which dictated him having the greatest flaw of all, **perfection**.

Without a moment of hesitation, the last name was written.

Folding the parchment, the assassin snapped his fingers, summoning as his baby blue eyes stared forward. Appearing to materialize from thin air, two men bowed before the young teen, eyes never landing on them.

"Inform Aida-san to find all the information on these individuals. You are dismissed." Well used to their new master's formal tone even when speaking to subordinates, the Shadowless World unit bowed low before disappearing, obeying.

A soft sigh escaped pink lips as the assassin's eyes turned to the door.

"You may enter, Nijimura-senpai."

The black-haired elder boy flinched from behind the doors with a resigned sigh of those caught in the midst of something they shouldn't be, before entering, his own dark purple robes a flowing softly behind him as he scowled, seeing himself in front of the younger.

"Oi. Didn't I tell you to drop the 'senpai' thing at home?" Nijimura scowled moodily. "You refer to me as 'nii-sama' or 'Nijimura-nii' at home, Kuroko."

Frowning a bit, the younger assassin tried it on his lips, pouting a bit. "I apologize, Nijimura… nii-sama."

"We'll work on it. For once, you're listening to me and not off disappearing." Holding back the urge to hug the precious little thing that was now his younger brother, Nijimura schooled his face to be one of a slight grimace, before it became annoyed again; the both of them ignoring the servants who had entered, setting up dinner. "Speaking of disappearing, the hell did you go off to this morning? I turn around for one minute and completely forget about you. I didn't remember that you were following me until I was in the middle of class."

"You were walking too fast. I got lost." Kuroko deadpanned as Nijimura internally facepalmed, waving aside the servants to leave.

"You are suppose to say something, Kuroko."

"I did, nii-sama. You didn't hear me." Was the monotone answer that made his older brother internally growl.

"Well, seeing how the old man hasn't summoned us for anything; I'll presume that you were able to go to all of your classes and got by well enough." Nijimura muttered, as Kuroko sipped his vanilla milk tea, his favorite. Picking up his own chopsticks, the older tapped at the younger's rice bowl, untouched. "Kuroko. Eat. And then you can drink your vanilla."

Kuroko glanced at the food as if it had done something sinful.

"And yes, you have to eat all of it."

"… But Nijimura nii-sama, I told you. I can't eat all of this." Kuroko unconsciously pouted a bit, cracking his expressionless mask a tad as Nijimura stayed stern.

"Then eat as much as you can."

"Fine." Kuroko conceded, silently lowering his cup with the care of handling fragile treasure. There was really no difference as far as Kuroko was concerned. Sighing at the loss of his true love in the realm of consumption, the two adopted brothers ate in silence, a bit awkward but comfortable enough to ensure a light air. It was not until Nijimura had placed a sliver of the five-spiced roasted duck into his bowl when he remembered the reason why he had come to his younger brother's chambers in the first place, other than the fact that they were asked — ordered — to eat together when they were home.

"Kuroko." The bluenette quirks an eyebrow, expressionless.

"You never explained to me what the hell you're doing here. You might have the old man under your beck and call but he holds no power over me, and neither do you."

"I do not." Kuroko agreed, lowering his chopsticks. Nijimura noted that the boy had only eaten from the three closest plates to his rice bowl with a frown. "But I do not see the need to explain myself to Nijimura nii-sama anything more than what I have already said. I sincerely apologize for such inconveniences."

Nijimura narrowed his eyes before smirking. "Hm. There's the boy I met."

"That's impolite, Nijimura nii-sama."

"So is withholding information, brat."

"I am not a brat, Nijimura nii-sama. Please refrain from referring to your younger self in the guise of using me as a proxy."

" _Oi_!"

* * *

Everyone but Akashi and Kuroko gaped at the dormitory that they were staying at as the six of them neared the large pagoda. It was located off to the side of the campus and had an unusual number of stories — six — above the ground floor, the wooden walls and beams a bright red while the roofs in between gleamed an embellished jade, clearly just constructed. A spire of gold topped the highest roof as if to stab the heavens, the steps toward the magnificent building of the finest granite, a shale grey cracked with black. Passing a set of armed soldiers, the Prime Minister's son merely glanced at the Head of the Guards before entering, coming to a series of courtyards.

The courtyards were just as beautiful as their accommodations, as they were shaded by young Japanese maple and sakura beside small gardens of zen as well as a small koi pond — more like a series of ponds. In all, it was an extravagant dormitory that made the other four turn to their default leader with incredulity.

"Akashi, don't you think this is a bit much for just the six of us?" Midorima voiced with a small frown. "Do not tell me that you have also broken the rules as to bring servants with you."

"Midorimacchi's right, Akashicchi! Wouldn't our senpai-tachi be offended if we stayed at such a place in our first year?" Kise nodded as Aomine was still staring at the dorm like it was a royal palace while Murasakibara had taken the privilege of consuming his snacks.

"You misunderstand, Midorima. Kise." Akashi chuckled with a hint of mirth. "This is the dormitory that we _will_ stay at, yes. But not at the moment."

"This is the dormitory for the most accomplished students of Teiko Academy." Kuroko spoke up as he held out his map of the campus, pointing at their current location. "Akashi-kun is implying that the six of us are to strive to live here in the future while we are in attendance."

"Exactly. In the meantime, I have taken the liberty of omitting your names from the bulletin and requested that I could inform the rest of you personally." Akashi smirked before pulling out a piece of parchment before reading it aloud. "We are all residents of the Lunar Pavilion. Kise. Murasakibara. Room 3. Aomine. Kuroko. Room 2. Midorima, we are Room 1. Our dormitory is usually reserved for third-years, but I had it amended. Accommodate yourselves and I will see the rest of you tomorrow for class. Do not think about skipping, Aomine. Kise."

A grumble of acknowledgement sounded from the tanned male as he turned away with Kuroko toward their dorm, who had bowed with a monotonous 'please take good care of me, Aomine-kun' that left the former a sputtering mess. With a glance to a pouting Kise who was complaining that why the ganguro was the one to spent the night with his Kurokocchi, Murasakibara merely nodded before stating that he would have preferred anyone but Kise-chin, only to make the blonde tear up dramatically — Akashi made his own way from their meeting with an endearing smile on his lips as he caught sight of Midorima's exasperated sigh when Aomine heard the insult of being a ganguro.

 _It was endearing for some reason._ Akashi watched as he ran a finger down the red envelope that he had yet to send. _The six of them._

* * *

Kuroko seated himself agilely on the terra-cotta tiles, dressed in a form that was very much unlike the silent student he was in the day. Instead of a young nobleman of suitable standing, adorned in soft silks of a respectable cream, this was a young veteran warrior. Ebony locks framed the face of the young master as a veil hid all but his enchantingly blank eyes, the pale opals threatening to drown anyone into them. Clad in the uniform that Nijimura had found him in the battlefield, Kuroko's gaze drifted to the night sky, his new school looming under him, decked out for battle. Fingering the cool tiles under his hands, the ruby phantom strings were tightly interwoven in the armguards, shadowed in the moonlight as two katanas decorated Kuroko's obi.

A presence appeared in the isolated courtyard, the figure of similar height of his own. But unlike his own, this male's aura was commanding, powerful and of absolution. Even in simple burgundy robes with an elegant gold obi, Akashi Seijuurou was in full control. Ruby locks tied into a high ponytail with bangs framing a porcelain face, heterochromic eyes met the blank opals with a spark of surprise as their gazes met. With a ripple, Kuroko disappeared before his eyes. Akashi allowed the smirk to dance over his face with wary knowing, the scent of cherry blossoms in the night air.

"It has been a while, Tetsuya."

"Good evening, Akashi-kun." Kuroko nodded in greeting as the redhead smiled in reply. "And yes, it has been."

"Our last encounter was when your mother was under my father's employment, seven years ago. You have changed much under your mother's tutelage." Akashi's whimsical talk did not fool Kuroko, who read the words like so: _After all this time, are you still my friend?_

Kuroko felt his lip waver under his veil. _Did you think so little of me?_

"Akashi-kun is and has always been my first friend." Kuroko whispered, his words soft as they pierced the night, making the redhead freeze momentarily in shock before a genuine smile colored his lips. But Kuroko looked away, hurt. Before he could conjure the words to express his irritation at the other, warm arms covered his shoulders, a silky voice breathed into his ear. "My apologies, Tetsuya. I did not mean to hurt you. You were also my very first true friend, and after being under my father, trust is a rare thing. Seven years ago after your mother had left with you so suddenly… I never thought to see you again so soon."

"I thought Akashi-kun knew everything." Kuroko teased, as Akashi smirked at the jibe, aware that it was the signal that he was forgiven before the ebony-haired Kuroko turned to the other with a curious look. "Akashi-kun was the one who summoned me here."

The redhead blinked before they narrowed sharply. "…I see. Then, that would make it easier for me to explain to you why I have asked for the presence of the Shadowless World."

"Please do not state my secret organization aloud like it is common knowledge, Akashi-kun."

Akashi smiled knowingly.

"Tetsuya." He said like scolding a child in mirth. "You know as well as I that there is not a breathing soul within a hundred yard vicinity of the two of us. Our skills are much too effective for an amateur mishap to occur."

Kuroko's silence was pouting.

"In any case, my business with you, Tetsuya, is this." Revealing a red envelope, the prime minister's son regarded the assassin with a stern gaze, as Kuroko tore through the letter with an elegant rip and read it's contents. "After my father's unsightly behavior before Tenno Heika, I will not allow my inheritance nor my legacy of power to be one of idiotic proxy for a sniveling prince."

"This are dangerous thoughts, Akashi-kun."

"Do not fret, Tetsuya. I do not employ thoughts that are unwarranted and without a possibility of playing to my favor. I have gathered the appropriate pieces for our siege."

"Are you referring to Kise-kun, Aomine-kun, Midorima-kun, and Murasakibara-kun; Akashi-kun?"

"But of course, Tetsuya." Akashi affirmed with a hum.

"Then I will follow through with Akashi-kun's request and our agreement with one condition." Kuroko stated monotonously as he looked at the taller dead in the eye.

"What are your conditions, Tetsuya?" Akashi smirked.

"…" The words were lost to the winds, as ruby locks and ebony ones tousled elegantly, swaying with such beauty that photogenic geishas could only hope to achieve as the childhood friends sealed their agreement. It was to be a moment that was to be recorded and then lost to the depths of time as the first promise that the Red Emperor had broken to the Black King.


	4. School Day

Chapter 4: School Day

Kuroko was in a predicament as the phantom frowned lightly, the downturn of lips marring his usually blank face, impassive no longer. In his bedroom that he shared with Aomine, it was comfortable and spacious, fully stocked with accommodations that any other student would have relished to their dying days that Kuroko was very much thankful for — but he was most certainly not for _this_. _This_ , being the large male that currently hugged his futon wrapped person like a very fond body pillow, not to mention he was snoring right into his ear. Turning his head, Kuroko schooled his frown away before blinking at the close proximity his face was to Aomine's, a mere few inches. After a moment of contemplation, Kuroko held a glint of determination in his sky blue eyes, and with a mild wiggle, managed to free his right hand just above the tanned male's abdomen.

And with a hard jab, the hand met it's target, effectively awakening Aomine.

"GAH! The hell was —?! Tetsu?!" Aomine cried out, as his sapphire eyes landed on a mildly annoyed Kuroko, who merely blinked up at the nickname.

"Ohayo, Aomine-kun." Kuroko greeted as if the situation was perfectly normal. "It appears that last night resulted in this situation and I would like to humbly ask that you release your person from my own. You are crushing me."

Blushing at the words, Aomine sputtered an apology before obliging quickly, rolling back to his own futon, which appeared to be haphazardly kicked away. Glancing at the time piece, the tanned male groaned at the reminder of needing to go to class, yawning already — but nonetheless stood when Kuroko passed him a clean uniform and morning necessities, both heading to the baths that they shared with the other four. To which they found Kise fixing his hair with a thin comb, still a bit blearily-eyed before they entered, the blonde immediately hugging the phantom before bursting in a fit of giggles. "Ohayo~ Kurokocchi~! _Uwah_! Kurokocchi! Your hair!"

"Ohayo, Kise-kun. Please let go of me." Kuroko blinked before looking up at his hair to Aomine's admission was rather hilarious. Sticking up in all sorts of directions like a bird's nest, the tanned male cracked a small laugh.

"Mu~ Kurokocchi is so mean in the morning." Kise pouted before Aomine grew annoyed at the blockade that was the blonde. "Ne, ne; Kurokocchi! Let me brush your—!"

"Oi, Kise. Let go of Tetsu and let us get ready for classes already!"

"Eh? Aominecchi wants to go to class without being bribed? Are you feeling okay, Aominecchi? Did Momoicchi take anyway your porn stash again?" Shoving him off the shadow with a kick, the tanned male dragged his roommate to the warm basins before washing up, a small smile on Kuroko's face at their antics, no doubt. Before Aomine could think much about it, he was quickly distracted by a resurrected Kise, who began to coo at how cute his Kurokocchi was until he was shot down effectively by Kuroko's statement of not being at all his.

Several moments later after changing into their uniforms and taming rambunctious bed hair, Kuroko, followed by an arguing Kise and Aomine, entered their private dining hall to see Akashi, Midorima, and Murasakibara eating breakfast, greeting them. Getting a small meal for himself, Kuroko pouted at Akashi's refusal for him to drink any vanilla tea.

"Not until you have finished everything on your platter, Kuroko. Nijimura-senpai has been very clear that you are to finish a suitable amount of food before you can have your vanilla." Akashi scolded with an amused smile at Kuroko's pout before turning to everyone else. "And that goes the same for your vegetables; Kise, Aomine, and Murasakibara. I will not have the rest of you being eating such unhealthy diets under my watch."

"But I don't like daikon, Akashicchi!" Kise whined as Aomine grumbled, but all the same, both of them shoveled down the vegetables obediently with a pouting Murasakibara, who was unsuccessful against Akashi's expectant glare.

"But Aka-chin…"

"Vegetables first, Murasakibara. And then you can have your snacks."

Pouting with a light frown, Murasakibara stomped a bit petulantly before gathering vegetables to his rice bowl, all under Akashi's amused glance. Kuroko, in the other hand, stared at his share of breakfast as if it had done something to personally offend him when a pair of chopsticks shoved a clump of rice into his mouth, gentle but stern as Kuroko swallowed, glaring at bit at his first friend.

"Eat, Tetsuya." The redhead commanded. "You don't want to be late for classes now, do you?"

* * *

After classes of the mental stimulation, then came the branch of which Teiko was well-known for. Swordsmanship and battle strategy. It was here that the six boys, becoming men, truly felt alive. Aomine, Akashi, Murasakibara and Midorima were naturally risen to consideration of the top ranks with ease upon the individual tests for each student, while Kise was skeptical of using his abilities for swordsmanship, usually for skills of the fine arts rather than of 'brutish violence' as his mother put it but in the awe of seeing the beauty of which the others had completed their tests, the blonde tried anyway and was noted similarly to the other four. While in contradicting comparison, Kuroko was placed upon the lower rankings in that regard initially, for his low speed and feeble strength in comparison — yet with a glance at Akashi's knowing eyes, the other five knew that there was clearly something more to the phantom.

Not to mention Nijimura's own skepticism as he neared his younger brother, everyone in comfortable white hakamas with personal accommodations — Kuroko with twin ebony wrist and light blue armguards under the sleeves, Midorima replacing his bandaged hands with fingerless gloves which was mirrored by the others, except Murasakibara, who merely stated that it was a nuisance to remove and replace.

"Kuroko?" Nijimura frowned. _He was just here…_

"Yes, Nijimura-senpai?" Kuroko asked, appearing out of nowhere in front of him as the ebony-haired assassin tried to calm his now erratic heartbeat. _Gods, taking care of brats were such a handful._ But putting his physical well-being aside for now, the older narrowed his eyes at the younger assassin.

"What kind of game are you trying here, Kuroko?" Nijimura hissed, his whispers only loud enough for him and the phantom to hear. "You can do better than being an Unranked."

"I am not trying anything." Kuroko tilted his head to the side, cerulean opal eyes gleaming with innocence. "My physical attributes only go as far as that when I am alone with only a sword as weaponry, Nijimura-senpai. I apologize if my skills were lower than you were expecting them to be."

Nijimura narrowed his eyes for a moment, thoughts swirling. While it was true that Kuroko appeared to be weak and frail, he was by no means _harmless_. Nijimura himself was able to attest to that, the memory in the outskirts of the empire not yet faded. But then again, the field was to the phantom's advantage at the time and not to mention that Kuroko carried katanas — _No_ , Nijimura corrected himself — the phantom carried not the traditional katana but a set of kodachi and wakizashi. Only masters of such blades were able to carry them recklessly in such a way, _could_ it be that Kuroko…?

But before the older sibling could say anything, a cold voice cut in, sounding in the large training area as Akashi came up to the two. "Nijimura-senpai, if I may, suggest that we go against one another in groups to assess our abilities with personal weapons other than standard katanas?" Nijimura was not ignorant to true meaning of the words — Akashi was in the same thought process as him — no, he _knew_. He _knew_ something about Kuroko, something he didn't; and the redhead was not _suggesting_.

Eyes still wary but not hostile, the former captain nodded before addressing all of the first-years. "Very well, Akashi. Divide yourselves into eight teams of no more than seven, and aline yourselves with your group — the training yard will be divided into four squares where we will have the matches in unison. You all have five minutes to present your weapons of choice and have them blunted by one of the senpai."

Gathering, Akashi nodded as the others neared, expression impassive but clearly planning as Aomine looked excited to just get on with the action, Midorima huffing in the side with Kise with a concentrated expression on the third-years that practiced in another courtyard. Murasakibara appeared disinterested in general while Kuroko was contemplative — he had many _lights_ to distract his movements — but exactly who was the most _suitable_? Scanning his team, Kuroko perked up as he noted everyone's choices in weaponry — Aomine with a custom katana, Midorima with a yumi with eagle-feathered arrows, Murasakibara trailed in with a large kanabo (issuing many, many stares), Akashi with a wakizashi and finally, Kise with a naginata.

Kuroko himself was armed with his ruby shadow strings and his secondary weapons of a wakizashi and kodachi — his other weapons were not needed — it was only a test to gauge his skill, not an assignment. After blunting their weapons with the placement of metal coatings that could only bruise, the objective was simple — incapacitate, disarm, or place a fatal blow upon every team member until they were all defeated to win. Akashi, who was by default, was placed into the position of their 'leader', was currently giving out positions: "Midorima, you will pick out opponents with Murasakibara and cover Kise and Aomine as they uptake the brunt of the fray. Kuroko and I will then cover you."

"Akashi-kun, could you please allow me to join Kise-kun and Aomine-kun?" Kuroko called out, five heads turning to him in surprise.

Akashi rose an eyebrow at the shadow's calm appearance. Despite being well aware of Kuroko's ability of being unnoticed was useful for his status of an assassin, it appeared that Kuroko had more than what he appeared to be, it was no secret between the two childhood friends that Kuroko was considered relatively weak and almost fragile. It was almost heartbreaking the times that Kuroko would be at near tears when his mother was disappointed at his physique — apparently, the assassin had taken his advice seven years ago, how _interesting_ …

"Very well." The prime minister's son conceded before adding. "However, if you hold us back, I will replace you with me in the defensive."

To his surprise, the phantom smiled a small smirk. "Understood, Akashi-kun." Turning to everyone else in their meeting, his face became impassive once more as he spoke, "If you see me, please maneuver our opponents toward me."

The five prodigies blinked in surprise at the words but nodded anyway.

Dismissed, the six of them took their positions. Aomine grinned excitedly, finally able to fight while Kise smirked with a confidence that he recently acquired with a mischievous glint in his eyes, yet like Midorima sent a frown at Kuroko being presented at the forefront. Murasakibara was in other end of the spectrum, looking like he could careless while Akashi ignored the pointed looks he received from Midorima, choosing to gauge their opponents instead.

None of them were particularly bad but neither noteworthy, Nijimura mused his thoughts paralleling with Akashi's as he glanced at Kuroko's team. While he was surprised that Kuroko was in the front ranks with Aomine and Kise, Nijimura was keen to see what his 'younger brother' had in store.

And the signal, the match began.

* * *

Kise frowned as Kuroko barely missed a swipe to his neck, dodging by a little more than a hairline as the smallest of the six of them retreated in soft steps, blank eyes calm and composed as Aomine took over his opponent, charging in with a feral grin. Parrying the blunt end of his bladed staff, the blonde swiftly connected the dulled blade to his opponent's chest and abdomen in succession, hard enough to cause his enemy to falter but not fall unconscious. Smirking at the confirmed call of his kill, Kise turned away before finding himself in another parry in surprise, a single-handed katana wielder locked with his naginata.

Cursing at his carelessness, the blonde schooled his expression from frowning. He was not — _never_ — allowed to frown.

Only to have a streak of pale blue flit the corner of his eyes, so swiftly dancing in the edges of his vision that he couldn't be sure if it was an illusion or a real image. Distracted, Kise unknowingly left himself open as he felt his opponent increase the pressure in their locked stance, seeing the hidden secondary weapon too late. It was a thin dagger, pointing for his chest — a vital and undoubtably, fatal point as Kise watched in muted horror; when to his surprise, the hand and dagger was stopped.

Blinking blearily at the paused limb, Kise looked at his opponent with questioning when he found the same confusion reflected back at him; when a voice, deadpan as ever sounded. "It is not polite to stare with your opponents in such a manner, Kise-kun. Please take out opponent-san."

"K-Kurokocchi?!" Kise cried as he flung away the offending — and still stiff — armed limb at his chest, knocking out the opponent with a fluid whack to the head before looking for the phantom.

"Yes, Kise-kun?" Kuroko inquired as he 'appeared' beside the blonde, ruby strings in use as he tugged them carefully before cutting all of them with a snip. "Please give me a minute, Kise-kun. I will be back soon."

And with that the phantom 'disappeared.'

However, in Akashi's heterochromic gaze, the shadow never disappeared. Not after what happened the first time in a while, the Prime Minster's son refused to allow it to occur once more. But yet, that was kicked to be back as an excited glint gleamed in his golden and ruby eyes, as he observed his queen's movements. The more he knew of the assassin, the more benefitting he became to be his queen. Kise was skeptical as were the others when he had inducted Kuroko: the blonde happy that Tetsuya was able to _see_ him, the doctor's son content with having another calm (read: sane) person in their group, the tanned one with a friend who did not _see_ his father, the tallest with someone to provide his snacks other than Akashi — but they all acknowledged one trait most of all — the **_strong_**. And they were not sure that the Kuroko had the capabilities to be strong. But with one fallow swoop, he proved that he was.

With Kise and Aomine in the front lines, their movements swift and eye-catching, none cared for the invisible Kuroko who had yet to even unsheathe his weapons. Even when Midorima and himself had entered the fray, arrows from both sides disregarded the smallest of them, Murasakibara doing enough of a job in holding back from opponents to approach them too easily.

That was until, the three of them found an equal number before them. Swiftly, their leader issued his orders, Midorima to back up and take down the left and Murasakibara to the right; his own job to be the annoyance in front. Appearing unarmed before his opponent — wielding a blunted katana — Akashi dodged the blow with a swift side-step before revealing his own weapon, a beautiful ebony glided fan; the metallic panels sharpened with the thickness of razor blades. Allowing the katana to bypass the panels, the leader swiftly folded the fan before twisting and lifting his own blades at his opponent, executing a blow to the neck. Not bothering to look at his opponent's eyes roll back into his head, Akashi narrowed his eyes, dark and alluding.

It was too easily done. Even with his skill, Akashi concluded as he turned back to his opponent, unconscious. Heterochromic eyes honed on thin, nearly invisible strings tied loosely over the body's joints, thin enough to be disregarded like the strands of hair. **_Red_**.

 _Tetsuya_. Akashi thought as he looked to the battle once more, replacing his fan. Catching sight of the phantom, the leader of the six watched with maddening fascination as the ruby strings, barely in sight to the average human, wrap over Kise's opponent who had caught the blonde in a moment of distraction — increase Kise's training by two — tying intricately over joints and and fatal points. If Tetsuya had wanted to, anyone under his strings would have been shredded into multiple parts of flesh. But then, it wouldn't have been Tetsuya. Tetsuya was honorable, as the leader watched the shadow's fingers maneuver the strings, coaxing them to his will as they froze Kise's opponent — unable to move without permission from those blank eyes.

And with the skill of a puppeteer, his other hand coaxed others in his web as the battles grew and continued, the awe of **_their_** battles omnipresent.

How it incapacitated the pawns as if they were less than insects; Aomine able to easily maneuver with ungodly speeds, knocking aside opponents left and right as they were pulled into stillness; Midorima picking out the runners that dared to near, his shots accurate within their own right as Kuroko hand delivered them to his range; Kise's mimicry expressed in an authentic smile as he covered the parts when the shadow was defenseless, occasionally treated to a pleasant greeting before reprimanded; Murasakibara although overly indifferent, gave surprised hums as opponents were danced to in an orderly fashion before thanking Kuro-chin; Akashi himself, even given a small token by being treated to a row of knelt opponents, knees tucked — pulled — to the earth.

With a sardonic smile, Akashi unfurled his fan before thanking for the gift.

* * *

In the private baths, the six of them sat in the heated rocks in a collective silence, the hot water and added salts doing wonders for their muscles. Until the silence was abruptly destroyed by a blonde, who after their victory in the courtyard — and induction to the upper ranks — developed an even larger crush on their shadow.

"KUROKOCCHI~! YOU WERE SO AMAZING~!" Kise hugged him, all of them in towels at the waist — Midorima insisted, red-faced and sputtering when Aomine waltzed in prideful nudity.

"Please let go of me, Kise-kun. I cannot breathe." Kuroko stated, his voice muffled into Kise's bare chest as everyone else looked at the sight with interest. "And I only used my low presence to my advantage, Kise-kun. My actions were not really that amazing, Kise-kun."

"Oi, Kise! Get the hell off of Tetsu!" Aomine growled as he got up from scrubbing himself, kicking aside the now whining crybaby of the group; the others unconcerned. "But the stupid blonde does have a point. That was amazing, Tetsu! It's like you know exactly when and what we need when we're on the field."

"And Kuroko does." Akashi confirmed, his lips smirking in the wisps of steam, a thin towel dripping on damp locks as ruby eyes gleamed with mirth from the baths. "That is why he was inactive for a time before each match — by observing each and every one of our battle tactics to accommodate how he will move our enemies to our mercy. Although I must admit, Kuroko, when I had told you to use your invisibility to your advantage in battle — this exceeded my expectations."

Blushing from a combination of the heated waters and the redhead's words, the shadow squirmed at the looks from everyone else. "Thank you, Akashi-kun. But I really did not do much of anything."

Midorima frowned as he appeared almost uncomfortable, his glasses miraculously not fogged over as he lifted them over his eyes. "Be as it may, Kuroko. But you did show yourself as an asset to us despite initial assumptions. Not that it was any of my concern, this fact however, remains."

"Mido-chin's in denial again~" Murasakibara hummed, chewing happily on some mochi at the other end of the bath, a plate of the rice filled desserts planted neatly on one of the rocks. "Mido-chin is trying to say he was impressed too, Kuro-chin~ Kuro-chin is so small, but I guess he's pretty good too~"

"Thank you, Midorima-kun and Murasakibara-kun." Kuroko said softly before frowning lightly. "But I hardly see what exactly I did to help you all. Regardless of my presence, I think the five of you would have been victorious anyway."

"That hurts, Tetsu." Aomine sat with a splash into the baths, Kise joining him as the tanned male put an arm over the shadow. "We're all a team and we're better than that. We'll always need you, Tetsu."

"Aomine-kun can surprisingly be deep sometimes." Kuroko blinked.

"Oi, Tetsu; the hell is that suppose to mean?!"

"It means that Kuroko is surprised that you can actually think, idiot. Not that the notion is only surprising to him." Midorima rolled his eyes, adjusting his hold over his lucky item — a handheld kappa statue, blessed by the Holy Lakes. "It's rather surprising to all of us to see you accomplish this menial task."

"… _Menial_ task?!"

"You have to admit, Aomine, the thought is a bit above you." Akashi added, as Kise placed in his own two cents; all amused at the sputtering son of the commander. "This is an accomplishment, Aominecchi! Ne, ne; we should celebrate, Aominecchi's thinking for once!"

"Wait." Murasakibara cut in, his expression serious. "… Mine-chin can think?"

"Congratulations, Aomine-kun." Kuroko clapped with a glint of mirth in his deadpanned eyes.

"WHAT KIND OF FRIENDS ARE YOU ASSHOLES?!"

* * *

From then on, the five became known as the Kiseki no Sedai, a group of five young nobility that excelled in the art of swordsmanship and the five main branches — executive, economics, medical, military and sacred arts of the Teikon government, clearly forerunners for the head of each branch. But there was a strange rumor, that there was another among them, acknowledged by the other five, that was not of nobility but attended the Academy all the same, his head of the branch — a secret society / summoned demons / ghosts. Other rumors insisted that he was dangerous and was clearly a lapdog to the feared Akashi Seijuurou, an _Akashi_ among Akashis' apparently. His name easily sent shivers through the spines of many, and it was not exactly wrong for others to fear it. It held the power to ruin anyone with a mere glance if it so desired.

Yet Nijimura resisted the murderous _desire_ to hit something while he was able to detect silvers of amusement from Kuroko as others spoke in fevered whispers — _literally_ in front of them — as they walked back to their respective dorms for one weekend. Shirogane was elated to say the least, his school and the popularity of the five skyrocketing the overall opinion of the aged commander to approval when it was initially thought as foolhardy for such a sadistically cruel general to be ' _human_ ' enough to settle upon a role in education.

To Nijimura's esteemed opinion, the man was _still_ a sadistic bastard, just redirected. Then again, it was not like he had room for argument either.

Huffing lightly, the current Student Body President turned to his younger sibling. "Kuroko, how is it, living the rest of the idiots?"

"Please do not insult my friends, Nijimura-senpai. They are considered geniuses and amazing swordsmen on their own efforts. They are just a bit childish, not idiots."

"Geniuses are also the weirdest of the bunch." The elder retorted, rolling his eyes as he placed a lazy arm over the smaller assassin. "And crazy too."

"I do not deny that they are a bit eccentric." Kuroko admitted truthfully, blank eyes fragmented with silvers of resignation.

Nijimura gave him a deadpan. "Aomine was caught reading _those_ red books in the library, Murasakibara eats so much in your classes that the teachers have all given up on trying to make him stop, Midorima and his lucky items — _enough said_ —, Akashi just _looked_ at one student before he fainted, not to mention; Kise, asked me if I had any of your _underwear_ to worship. Kuroko, this happened two days ago. _All_ of them."

Kuroko had the decency to appear explicitly thoughtful. "Please do not speak of them like they are bad people, Nijimura-senpai. Aomine-kun is a pervert while Murasakibara-kun is a bit like a child, you need to bribe him with pleasantries to do ask him of anything. Midorima-kun is strictly religious — There's no discrimination in Teiko over that, senpai. But it's _weird_ , Kuroko. — and Akashi-kun... is just Akashi-kun. Kise-kun, in the other hand, can be a bit overbearing in his affection; but he means well."

 _Of course, he has the patience of a saint._ Nijimura thought to himself with an internal facepalm. "That is exactly why maybe you should be careful, Kuroko."

"Of what, Nijimura-senpai?"

The elder huffed as he ruffled the smaller's head with a hint of affection. "Just take care of yourself. Have fun and do what you want to do, Kuroko. That's all."

"…" Kuroko appeared to have an idea. Unfortunately, Kuroko was not the only observant one as Nijimura narrowed his eyes before speaking.

"No. That does not signify my permission to let you get away with not finishing everything Murasakibara made for you tonight when you get back. I'm telling you as your _captain_ and _older brother_."

"… This is an abuse of authority. Nijimura-san." And with that, Kuroko disappeared from the courtyard to his dormitory, leaving an irate Nijimura, who could not allow a scold to bypass his lips fast enough to only be looking around for Kuroko. _Misdirection. Again._

"I need to put a gods-damned leash on that brat." Nijimura muttered as he walked to his own dorm, not noticing the small sneeze ten feet away from him across the courtyard before pausing, registering what he was just called by. "... DID HE JUST... THAT BRAT!"

"... I am not a brat." Kuroko noted quietly before turning away.


	5. Perfecting Timing

Chapter 5: Perfecting Timing

As one would expect of geniuses in a particular field, the five — unknowingly, six — of them should have been inept in all other fields of study, politics, or skill. But in the era of Teiko and such troublesome times, being skilled at one thing was unacceptable and would be cleanly be snuffed out; geniuses, no different.

Kise was skilled in mimicry for all skills, becoming a novice to a master in a single study and with his status as a the reincarnation of the Sun God, made him _revered_. Midorima was second to none in his ability to heal and kill, his skill with needles and a bow; not to mention the son of the Royal Doctor, made him _revered_. Aomine, the son of the High Commander of the Teikon Royal Army, a majority his own private battalion loyal to the name of his family, was undefeated in any form of battle within his generation, made him _revered_. Murasakibara was intimidating, powerful, and nonchalant; a dangerous combination to anyone with a set of eyes, rumors of his ascension into nobility was a behind-closed-doors ordeal only cemented that the giant was not to be made into displaying any other emotion; made him all the more _revered_. Akashi, his lineage and aura as a noble was enough to make sinners repent for their folly of daring to set their peasant gazes ascend over his holy form, was _revered_ ; without exception because no other option was allowed to breathe upon Teikon earth.

 _Revered_ , the Kiseki no Sedai was without a doubt, their potential and excellence would have expectedly made anyone watch their progress understandably with admiration and awe. Yet, within the foldings of history; they were marred with smears of fear and ruthlessness of monsters. How does one ascend from the status of a revered mortal with godly blessings to the ranking of a holy deity that was feared with every ascension?

Kuroko was not particularly skilled like Kise. Kuroko was not particularly adept in having the kill record like Midorima. Kuroko was not particularly able in physical prowess like Aomine. Kuroko was not particularly strong like Murasakibara. And he was most certainly not as proficient as Akashi.

And yet, he was the _queen_. _Revered_ all the same.

A king is useless without his army, and he cannot control the other pieces if his queen is not present — Kuroko was not particularly skilled in any way: he was weak, his kills were all assisted, he was invisible, he held no real power in the empire, and had no true ambitions; and yet, he was the one who withheld all of the powerful pieces at his whim. Or was his hold truly _that_ strong?

* * *

The Great _Teikon_ Empire. With more than a century of history under her belt, the empire was known for her great monarchs, militants that conquered much of the continent that it held a monopoly of all the riches and resources that the land had to offer. Stretching from one great sea to another, the golden empire was feared by the surrounding smaller countries, in fear that they were soon to be conquered by the great empire. But in the late lifetimes, this fear had dwindled as the monarchs became arrogant and mad with the power that came from the name of Teiko; the internal strife well-known to even the common man. But she was formidable, a great empire for a reason, striking fear into the hearts of their enemies and allies alike, she was not easily overcome. She had the greatest military force, the finance of golden standard coins, and a distinct culture that upheld only one true ideal — _victory_.

Kuroko lowered his textbook with a hint of contemplation, his blank eyes disillusioned to make many believe that he was bored. But the shadow was hardly so, seated beside a studying Midorima, who had joined him for a small session of reading. Careful to not disturb his neighbor, the shadow slipped out his calligraphy set before silently configuring notes, his thoughts racing as he wrote.

 _Was it the foundation of tradition and a century of history that made his mother sentimental to saving Teiko?_ His mother was never one for sentiment. She was not unkind, but not so impractical to preserve Teiko under the impression that it was the land that her son was birthed at. She had coldly cut aside her late husband's relatives with a wave of her manicured hands in the sister empire of Meiko to be consumed by Koen and Kazami, both _sub-colonies,_ at the time; humiliatingly. Teiko watched with a haughty huff as it's competing superpower was crushed by _sub-colonies_ under it's own control — _pathetic_.

Humiliated, Meiko was reduced to near ruin. But to his mother's ire and his own curious interest, the empire refused to die, a trait that a five-year-old Kuroko had pointed out to his mother, who had to begrudgingly admit to her son. Instead, by some blessing, the empire pulled itself out of the economic and political ruin that the Mistress of the Shadowless World had purged upon them. Perhaps, this was the reason that she had left Teiko to survive, instead of allowing the empire to be destroyed, like their predecessors had done. After her death, Kuroko knew two things for sure — to her dying breath, she wanted him to uphold Teiko's salvation and the destruction of Meiko — because of what his father did.

It was _unforgivable_ , in his mother's eyes. And Kuroko could not find himself disagreeing.

"Kuroko."

The phantom paused in his thoughts, before realizing that he had already finished his notes and his brush had already begun to dry in the inkstone. "Yes, Midorima-kun?"

If the tsundere had noticed Kuroko's lapse in thought, he didn't voice it. "It is your turn to cook with Murasakibara today, if you wish to make it on time to make dinner; I would suggest that you go in a few minutes, not that it is any of my concern."

Glancing at the time piece, Kuroko found the green-haired male to be correct, packing his things immediately. "Ah. Thank you for reminding me, Midorima-kun."

Midorima looked away, a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks. "Do not misunderstand me. It would be detrimental to myself if you were not present with your duties with Murasakibara, unable to make dinner."

"I see." Kuroko nodded. "Will you remain at the library for the rest of today?"

Lifting his glasses up thoughtfully, the taller shook his head before following in suit with Kuroko, packing his things. "No. I have several things to discuss with Akashi today as well as a shogi match to play. The gods have ordained that I am to allow leeway with my time today and to allow events dictate their exit and arrival."

Pointing to a pouch of jujube, the shadow inquired softly. "And this would be Midorima-kun's…"

"… lucky item." Midorima supplied as they exited the library, the taller gripping the bag of small dried apples.

"I see." The phantom hummed as they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

The six of them had developed a sort of routine over the past few weeks of school: Mornings would be hectic to say the least as it would be a normal occurrence to see Kise and Aomine arguing over the table, Akashi scolding all but Midorima to eat properly while their day was littered with classes and to finish up would-be practice katas where the six of them were set to train under the instruction of Nijimura, who quickly learned that his younger brothers' friends — his kouhai as well — were an odd bunch to say the least. But after a training regime from the elder assassin, the six of them returned to their dormitory with tired grins and amused camaraderie to repeat, all while trying to recall whose turn it was to cook dinner. Midorima had a tendency to invest his time to his studies with Akashi, who appeared to have everything upon mastery with an ease; both as Aomine put it — _workaholics_. Where he and Kise belonged in the opposing end of the spectrum, lazy and had no interest towards the realm of academics but were fiercest at battle when it came to the front lines — Kise's being most astonishing as he turned to a reluctant player to a lithe weapons user in less than a month. Yet, he was unable to beat against Aomine, Kuroko's chosen partner and main light, as the tanned male was a menace in the field with his katana. Where with Murasakibara and Kuroko, the two employed quiet activities while scoring average with academics, the former with the assistance with an amused yet stern Akashi and the latter with sheer determination to do his best — while being complete opposites on the field. Kuroko needing to invest all of his effort to support everyone, while Murasakibara needing to only swing his large blunt weapon to fatally hurt his enemies… _er_ … opponents.

All in all, the six of them were well-acquainted.

"Kuroko."

Snapping out of his reverie of the past month, the shadow turned to Midorima who had a rare look of genuine concern on his face, eyes most expressive as the both of them had arrived to dorm. "I have been calling for the past few minutes without answer. What is it that has you so out of it today?" Midorima frowned before speaking once more. "If Professor Shiba's lecture was that difficult, you may borrow my notes. Guaranteeing that I do not fall behind my own studies."

Kuroko smiled internally at the last line. Midorima's class was ahead of his own — only second to Akashi as far as understanding and knowing the material. "Thank you for your concern, Midorima-kun. But it was nothing. I seem to be a bit more distracted than usual today is all, I apologize for the trouble I have caused."

Huffing with a light tint of his cheeks, the doctor's son waved the matter aside as they both entered their respective rooms, Kuroko putting away his things before gathering a new set of robes for after his bath, when a very loud and very dirty Aomine came in.

"Yo, Tetsu."

"Good evening, Aomine-kun." Taking in the taller male's dirtied form, the shadow pulled out a new set of robes for him as well. "Please follow me to the baths, Aomine-kun. You do not want Midorima-kun to kick you out of the dining hall again for not bathing before eating."

Catching the clothes, the tanned male grunted a thanks before nodding, closing their door with a bang as they made their way to the baths. "Damned tsundere. If he's so worried about other people, why doesn't he just say it?"

"Midorima-kun does, Aomine-kun."

"But not like in a tsundere way, Tetsu." Aomine insisted as they both entered the baths, removing their clothing. "Like just say it like everyone else does."

"I prefer to have Midorima-kun act like Midorima-kun, Aomine-kun." Kuroko stated, bubbles forming in his hair as scented oils lathered his silky tresses. "Or would you rather have Midorima-kun was to act like Kise-kun?"

Aomine shuddered at the thought. _A bespectacled Midorima with a frighteningly enthusiastic grin over his face bolting straight at him, going at the speed of a cheetah with arms spread eagled, not to mention the accompany of a lucky item… Yeah._ ** _No_** _._ "… I'll take the tsundere version."

"Aomine-kun is using his head." Kuroko observed cutely, his washed hair dripping with crystal marbles as he toweled his hair. "I never thought I would have lived to see the day."

"Oi!"

Finished with his bath, Kuroko quickly dressed in a pastel yellow set of robes, patterned with poppies as he tied an aquamarine obi around his waist, disappearing from Aomine's sight and notification with a greeting that was unheard. Unperturbed by it, the assassin made his way to the dining hall, tying a sash to pull away hindering long sleeves before entering the kitchen to where he found a concentrating Murasakibara, hair tied away in a high ponytail and lip upturned in a focused gaze, as he rolled up rice balls meticulously. Lifting a bowl of chopped tofu, the smallest of the six addressed the tallest.

"Good evening, Murasakibara-kun."

"Ara, ara. Kuro-chin." The giant smiled lazily as he lowered the finished food. "When did you arrive in here?"

"I just arrived." Kuroko noted eloquently as he gestured to the unfinished soup and yet to be prepared fish. "I believe it is my turn to help Murasakibara-kun with cooking dinner today."

"Mhm." The giant hummed, before nodding to the bowl in Kuroko's hands. "Then Kuro-chin can make the tofu soup."

" _Hai_." Kuroko nodded as he moved to the steaming cauldron just above a medium fire, carefully raised with young wood. Adding a handful of dried shiitake mushrooms to the prepared stock as well as seaweed, Kuroko grimaced ever so slightly as the steam attacked his face, covering it with a layer of water. Ignoring it by adding a cup of soy sauce and miso to the soup, the phantom sampled it before turning to a plating Murasakibara, finished with the fish that was now cooked and roasted with a golden hue — Aomine's with a pile that rivaled Murasakibara's stack while Kuroko's single fish appeared almost lonely.

"I think it's too salty, Murasakibara-kun." Holding out the ladle, the shadow waited for the designated cook of the six for the verdict.

"…This is salt water, Kuro-chin. Not soup."

"My apologies." Kuroko deadpanned, not appearing apologetic at all as he added the tofu without a care, stirring for a moment before trying it again; Murasakibara impassive. "Ah. It appears that the tofu has fixed it. Here, Murasakibara-kun."

Holding out the ladle, the phantom waited for the taller's opinion.

"Mm." With a shrug, the giant agreed before setting down six bowls. "Kuro-chin almost ruined Aka-chin's favorite food."

"That would have been problematic." Kuroko agreed, not fancying the thought of a displeased Akashi. "Have you finished studying for our exams, Murasakibara-kun?"

"No." Murasakibara pouted, adding chopped green onion over the bowls. "Aka-chin won't let me eat any daifuku or maibou until I finish what he assigns every week. How about Kuro-chin?"

"I am not done yet either." Kuroko admitted, setting up the dining hall for the meal while Murasakibara cleaned up the kitchen.

"Mido-chin wasn't helping Kuro-chin, how mean~" Murasakibara commented, setting down their meals before Kuroko could explain as the others entered, Akashi pleasantly amused with an annoyed Midorima while Aomine grabbed the back of Kise's light purple robes from hugging Kuroko with a scowl.

"Midorimacchi, how mean~ How can you refuse to help Kurokocchi~?" Kise scolded as he gestured to the adorable specimen of a human that was Kuroko as they all seated themselves. "Kurokocchi is too cute to refuse~! Even with your tsundere ways~"

"Please do not call me cute, Kise-kun." Kuroko stated flatly before pausing. "And Midorima-kun cannot be a tsundere if I did not ask him first, so please do not be overly concerned with his refusal."

"I haven't even refused what you had yet to ask! Besides, how would you know if I would refuse your request, Kuroko?" Midorima shouted indignantly as the shadow tilted his head to one side adorably, eyes blank.

"Is Midorima-kun saying that he will help me with the upcoming exam then?" Looking at the bespectacled male expectantly, Kuroko waited with the rest, his large eyes twinkling softly as Midorima coughed dryly, huffing.

"I will inform you if I am available in my busy schedule to assist you, but _only_ when I am free, will I be able to assist you." Ignoring the scoff from Aomine and the knowing looks from the others, Kuroko smiled as Midorima frowned annoyedly before thanking him for sparing his free time to tutor him with his academics.

Dinner was relatively quiet afterwards, all of them finishing their meals before Murasakibara and Kuroko collected them to be washed, neatly piled into a wooden basin before the smallest and tallest took to the dishes, side by side, Murasakibara's larger hands handling the pots and cooking utensils while Kuroko took to the more delicate china.

"Bubbles, Kuro-chin."

"Ah." Kuroko blinked. To his ignorance, bubbles from the soap had accumulated onto his ponytailed hair, having grown slightly in length as it was currently a nest for a pyramid of white bubbles. Again.

"Kuro-chin is so small. Like the bubbles, so fragile." The titan poked the bubbles on his head absently, finished with his share.

Kuroko was carefully blank. "Please remove them quickly, Murasakibara-kun."

"Hai~" Obliging him, the shadow found himself taking a walk in the outskirts of their pavilion after parting with a quiet good night to the purple-haired male, the soft wind that contained the last of the cherry blossoms of the season having their final dance over the moonlit pond. Rippling softly, Tetsuya was alone with his thoughts, contemplative.

He had… grown _fond_ of the six of them together. He had not calculated his sentiments toward them, a severe miscalculation that had the potential to be cripplingly lethal. But at the same time, it was a thrilling thought. _Thrilling_. _Emotions_. Kuroko felt his fingers twitch. It had been a while since he felt such a thing. Yet by near these people, they surfaced so easily. Which was within itself was odd, was it because they were _different_? Kuroko pondered it softly. So strong by themselves and yet so deceptively _fragile_ at the same time behind the many walls? Kise-kun, who was destructive in his copying abilities, who could no longer tell if a real or fake smile was reflected to him? Midorima-kun, who was so sharp and concise, that he could not understand the simplest of life? Murasakibara-kun, who was so magnificent in battle, was a child who did not know from right or wrong and only his stomach? Aomine-kun, who was passionate and bright and yet, felt the shadow he could only bask in comparison to his father? And Akashi, who was so perfect, that he could not see that imperfections were what made others so perfect? Was it because he could see himself in them, that he was so _different_ that he was the _same_? Kuroko laughed internally, opals glowing soft in the moonlight. He was — _is_ — no different.

Kuroko Tetsuya, who was an assassin that felt _nothing_ since he was five, could only feel _alive_ when committing the act of pulling the strings that animated their lumps of flesh. Before tearing into the terse skin, teasing the pulsing network within and the pink muscle, the _shivers_ it did to his person.

He, like them; had _seen_ , _lived_ , and _breathed_ life into Teiko. And _hated_ it.

Kise _hated_. Akashi _hated_. But Midorima, Murasakibara and Aomine were still… **variable**. Disliked, perhaps; but yet to _hate_. Midorima was predictable and would soon hate. Murasakibara was overall indifferent until the issue of food was placed into the spotlight, and by the judgement of keeping Commander Aomine in the outskirts, he would soon follow. It was not hard to to make Aomine share their sentiments neither, but it was all about _timing_.

But it was still premature.

For now, _school_ was the concern. Teachers, homework, who would make dinner, who would be his partner in spars, who's turn it was to do the laundry, and when their next holiday was; irrelevant things that bypassed the daylight were important now. _Motivation_ was needed before anything else.

* * *

To his surprise, it was not any of his friends who had found him. It was a subordinate, a new one judging from the way he stumbled before falling in a knelt, a small curse bypassing his lips at the sloppy landing. Kuroko kept his silence, eyes on the water surface as he noted the way the subordinate appeared to have yet to see him. How amusing.

"Who are you?"

" ** _HOLY_** —!"

"The spider lily marks your death and the path you walked…" The phantom said, hands deceptively hidden as the subordinate understood immediately and replied swiftly. " _… as the almond blossom reveals your intent, bitter upon blood and sweat in vengeance._ "

Kuroko nodded, satisfied before voicing a thought. "… Are you new?"

"Eh? Uh, yeah." The subordinate nodded, scratching the back of his head absently. _Force of habit_. "I apologize for the slip-up, I'm still an apprentice."

"You are very informal." Kuroko noted, stating so rather than scolding as the shadow was able to see the tall subordinate flush behind his facial mask. "What is your name?"

"Kagami Taiga, apprentice to Hyuga-senpai."

"It is nice to formally meet you, Kagami-kun. Kuroko Tetsuya." The said assassin nodded, still standing. Waiting for the protocol bow for his status in the Shadowless World, Kuroko rose an eyebrow at the apprentice's expectant eyes with folded arms rather than cowering form, but pushed it aside. "Please state your business with me."

"Uh, right. Aida-san just wanted to inform you that she was done with the Master's request or whatever, she said to say that _it_ was ready and will be whenever Master gives the order. And for the Master to return soon." Kagami shrugged, as Kuroko idly noted the duel-katanas on his back.

"I see." Kuroko hummed, before waving a light hand. "Thank you, Kagami-kun. I will see to it that the Master is informed."

"Got it." Kagami nodded, before disappearing. Kuroko lifted a hand to his mask, brushing the edge smoothly as it broke with his sardonic smile. _**Master**. What a disgusting title._

* * *

"You are stalling."

"Am I, Shintarou?" Akashi asked, his tone sprinkled with whimsical notes, crimson eyes twinkling. He moved his bishop forward, his queen close as emerald eyes narrowed.

"Your actions are contradictory, Akashi. First, you say that it is _time_ , ordering us to enroll in this academy while bringing in Murasakibara and Kuroko. It has been a month and yet, we have done nothing." Midorima said after a short silence, as he retreated on the shogi board. "What exactly is your plan, Akashi?"

"Your concerns are valid, Midorima. _Deserved_ , even. But moving recklessly..." Akashi began, taking Midorima's knight before his eyes flickered to his opponent, "… will cost us a price I am _unwilling_ to pay. Too spread out within the empire, our goal is but a fantasy. We must be patient, hold our pieces close and our enemies even closer in our embrace."

With a clack, Midorima claimed Akashi's pawn, silent. "And so, here we are."

The redhead nodded, dark blue robes rustled softly with his movements. "Our families are clever, therefore, we must be _better_. We have no _true_ power yet. But with the correct timing, and execution… it will be within our grasp."

"And so, what better way to have _true_ power than to go to the most controversial and prestigious academy in Teiko, where if we climb to the top of the class we will be _automatically_ submitted to the prominent statutes of Teiko?" Midorima conjectured, words formulated into a statement as Akashi smirked at him.

"Close, Shintarou." His eyes were heterochromic. "It is not a matter of ' _if_ ', it is a matter of ' _when_ ', my friend."

And with a single move of his rook, the redhead claimed his checkmate.

"I submit my defeat today." The bespectacled male rose his glasses. "But I shall be victorious one day, Akashi. The gods have preordained it, your defeat."

"Man has defied the words of the gods before, Shintarou." Akashi smiled, eyes a dark garnet. "But I will accept your declaration. Let your gods try to bring upon my defeat." And as ironic as life was, it was not the _gods_ that brought upon defeat for Akashi Seijuurou.


	6. Ruffled Kouhai

Chapter 6: Ruffled Kouhai

The Royal Academy divided her students by grade from first-years to third-years, with a student body above them with five official spots other than the President. Divided by the political statuses of their parents, the students were allowed to vote their leaders in the academy — the professors at the academy carefully forewarned to _not_ sway the students upon any direction of other than declaring the ' _objective_ ' opinion that was clearly favored by the most powerful family, the Akashi clan. Therefore naturally, after the election, Akashi Seijuurou was the Student Body President and with his presidency chose his cabinet of representatives to be of the following with their official standing — Midorima as vice president, Kuroko as secretary, Kise as social activities chairman, Murasakibara as treasurer and Aomine as the disciplinary prefect.

But to allow a completely _new_ cabinet with a _new_ president to seize control in their first year so quickly into the school year was a clear indication of the incompetence of the seniors and an insult to their pride. But the Academy was the heart of her students — only the _best_ — winning was _everything_.

In such, the event that would soon travel throughout the school and later, history books; began one pleasant spring morning, Akashi seated with the rest of his to-be cabinet, having taken to do their homework and respective paperwork in the cool shelter of the lake gazebo — himself at the head of the table, flanked by Midorima and Murasakibara, with Kuroko at the opposite end, with Kise and Aomine at his end; when the challenge was delivered.

"Murasakibara, no snacks until you finish all of your homework. It's late as it is." Akashi scolded as the giant pouted, brush held in fist of frustration. Midorima, in other hand, looked like he was close to throw his abacus at a very confused Aomine, who gazed as the paperwork as if it was written in hieroglyphs. All the while, Kuroko patiently taught Kise their literature assignment, the blonde trying to hang on every word, when a small child servant ran into the gazebo, his steps stomping on the granite as he held out a silk-black envelope.

Black, symbolizing an issue of challenge; was enough to silence the others as they watched Akashi fish out the letter, reading it before an amused smile graced his lips — wary glances were exchanged at the sight. They _knew_ that smile.

"We have been challenged." Akashi stated the obvious, the amusement flavoring his words as he passed on the letter to Midorima. "By the soon-to-be former Student Council."

"'To the newly elected Student Body President, Akashi Seijuurou and his cabinet members: Midorima Shintarou, Kise Ryota, Aomine Daiki and Murasakibara Atsushi. — _Eh?!_ They forgot Kurokocchi! It's fine, I'm used to it, Kise-kun. _No_ , it's not fine, Tetsu! — As the members of the former student government, we as your senpai, believe that your ascension is impressive, from your status in swordsmanship and battle tactics to those outside of the academy. However, your statuses outside of the academy are not what are to establish your means here at the academy. Therefore, to be able to succeed as the new student government; we as the antecedent, issue a final qualification before your sworn entrance to your duties.'"

"A final qualification?" Aomine echoed, homework clearly forgotten. "Of what?"

"A duel." Midorima supplied, lifting his glasses with a bandaged hand. "In what the Royal Academy is most famous for — swordsmanship and battle — the duel is scheduled to be in a month, right before Akashi and the rest of us are to be sworn in."

"How can we duel and go against the senpai-tachi in one month? They have at least three years more experience than the rest of us do!" Kise shouted, his golden eyes serious as he frowned. "Not to say that the rest of them are a pushover, but can we win against them?"

"We won't know if we don't go against them." Aomine shrugged as he twirled his calligraphy brush, lightly inked as if to note how little the owner used it. "They'll be better than the others we go against in class all time, _fucking_ shaking in their tabi before any of us even do anything. It's not like it's our fault we're... _different_."

"As much I would hate to admit it, but Kise has a point, Aomine." Midorima frowned, conflicted. "Although we may be younger and have top rankings in our year in regards of battle, to compete against the older and more experienced senpai are not to be laughed at idly. I fail to see your amusement in this, Akashi."

"My amusement stems from your concern, Midorima." Their leader retorted with the elegance of the noble blood he was. "The odds of our victory may not be in our favor, however, that is no reason for us to be overly concerned. We must simply invoke a means to even the grounds."

"Akashi-kun is right, Midorima-kun." Kuroko piped in. "Just because we have less experience does not mean that we will lose."

"Then what exactly do you propose we do?" Midorima growled.

"For someone so bright, you are so clueless, Midorima-kun." Kuroko commented as he read the letter, passed to him by Aomine who snickered at the shadow's words with Kise.

"We study them." Akashi revealed with a smirk as he glanced at Aomine. "Aomine, invite Momoi-san over tomorrow. I have a request to ask of her."

* * *

Momoi Satsuki arrived in great fanfare to the academy, admission a bit late due to several traditionalists that did not care for the induction of the only child and heiress of the Momoi House. But after some negotiations (threatening / convincing — depending on your definition on it — from several Houses), the young girl was enlisted with open arms into the academy the following day. Dressed in a white hakama with red and yellow trimmings along with a ruby skirt as a jade pendant rested on her belt, the girl was flawless with light make-up upon her magenta eyes and full lips, pink hair tied high in a tail as a sole golden pin with dangling yellow leaves glowed beautifully in the sunlight. Naturally, following the palanquin was a entourage of male students, eyes raking over her form and beauty as thoughts surrounded upon claiming her as their wife and prize. And as a woman, the girl gave them none of her attention.

Beasts of lust in the disguise of men were of no interest to her.

Aomine Daiki may have been a pervert, but he had morals and lived by the sword. _She_ had made sure of that. The occasional hentai here and there was harmless, but to do the _act_ was an entirely different thing. And Daiki was _far_ from being the brightest in that aspect.

Careful to not lose her footing as she stepped off the escort with jeweled shoes and give some desperate dolt the excuse to be near her, Momoi Satsuki screened the academy that she was now a part of. It was beautiful, but for some reason, a bit _boorish_.

"Welcome to the Royal Academy, Momoi-san."

Turning at the sound of Akashi's voice, the girl smiled happily, seeing all of them present. "Thank you, Akashi-kun. It is nice to see you all again; Midorin, Ki-chan, Muk-kun and _Dai-chan._ "

"Satsuki." Aomine huffed before everyone else made their greetings.

"Where is this Kuroko-kun that I have been hearing about, Dai-chan? The one who escaped _my_ radar?" Momoi pouted, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

"Hello. I apologize for causing you trouble, Momoi-san." A disembodied voice sounded beside her as the girl flinched involuntarily, the other five doing the same as Tetsuya appeared before them. "I am Kuroko Tetsuya. It is nice to formally meet you, Momoi-san."

Momoi held back a small scream. _Where? How? When did he —?_

"N-No! It's not your fault!" The pink-haired girl recovered. "The pleasure is all mine! My name is Momoi Satsuki."

Momoi recoiled softly as she studied the male that had the power to disappear from her radar. _No one._ She was taught. No one was invisible to her connections, and yet, Akashi had found one that was. When he had informed her that he was not surprised by her ignorance of the invisible shadow, she had managed only to secure that he was unable to spot the male as well initially, whether through connections or in the first meeting, making her blink in surprise. The question of how, danced at her tongue but she dared not to ask.

Akashi did not make mistakes. He was considered the perfect son and heir for a reason, and to allow this anomaly in the form of Kuroko Tetsuya to make others challenge it; was a move that needed to be slow and patient. Not that it was her intention. No, her information was much more than just to use upon frivolous whim. Especially considering the six men — _boys_ — before her. She saw them well.

They were boys, — young and foolish — just as their cohorts were, only making their reputations as miracles all the more confusing. They were content, happy even — at least as far as she could tell from Dai-chan — in their school life. She was not as foolish as to think it would last forever. But _hope_ was something else.

They were _**Teikons**_. The humans that were not entirely _humane_.

Their country had one principle above others. _Victory is everything._

Kuroko Tetsuya was different, and for that, he had her respect. She observed with interest as the six boys proposed her position in the Cabinet — not one small seat neither — in exchange for her loyalty. She breathed softly as dark pink eyes trailed the letter, their agreement on paper in her personal chambers.

Her father was a _fool_. Keen to marry off his daughter to the highest bidder along with her late mother, encouraging him from the sidelines before her untimely death, but the heiress had no intention to allow a man to buy her like a lowly slave. She was no prize. She was to be _earned_. Therefore, when she had declared that she would not marry any suitor that she did not deem worthy, her father was furious enough to disown her. But he had no suitable threat. His first wife had perished and she was his only child and heiress, any other children would have been weak to the Momoi bloodline and wouldn't have compared to the sway of the first born, regardless of gender.

And she proved her worth and price well.

After a foreign prince from Josei — a _pitiful_ excuse of a military nation — had tried to woo and win her hand, Satsuki displayed just who the suitors would be marrying. The prince was still too mortified by the amount of life-crippling information she had gathered on him to come back on Teikon soil, and not to mention that his nation was unable to cut off relations or retaliate in anyway to such insult due to the pink-haired heiress' blackmail.

She was a rose, they learned, one with poison-laced thorns.

And these six — although foolish and young — saw that and valued it. _Hm, this Tetsu-kun was out for her heart._

Satsuki lifted her rabbit fur brush, before dipping it into the perfumed ink, and with elaborately elegant calligraphy, signed her name. Later on, in history, this alliance of the Generation of Miracles would be known as the official gathering of _all_ of their members, under the care of the House of Momoi, their leader, also known as the Pink Queen of Intelligence.

* * *

Kise, in a nutshell, was not having a pleasant day.

Neither was any of the other Miracles for that matter, if their overall auras were anything to go by. The blonde was most certainly not one of the brightest of the bunch — far from it, actually, according to his professors (not that they had the balls to say it as the Sun God's vessel and all) — but the living Adonis was _far_ from stupid. In the contrary, the blonde used the assumptions of those around him to his advantage, allowing them to befall the trap that he was an airhead. But even that had limits. Like _today_.

The blonde was fond of school for several reasons: he was treated like a normal person (relatively) and was actually able to smile a _real_ one among a circle of close friends that he could not have the same relations with his blood. And most importantly, his mother and sisters were _not_ here. His 'gifted' sisters were not allowed to touch him, because they would taint him, not that they wanted to anyway jealous of the popularity that he was bestowed with his birth. His 'loving' mother who looked after his every whim and action with the scrutiny of a bird of prey lurking over a caged morsel. The religion and faith to which gripped Teiko citizens to the core, was absent in the pavilion he shared with the other five.

Kurokocchi was straightforward, blunt and so _amazingly_ special. Midorimacchi was weird yet kind in his own _odd_ , considerate way. Murasakibaracchi was more _childish_ as he was, making Kise almost want to dote him. Aominecchi was _strong_ , and what he aspired to someday be able to copy. Akashicchi was strict, firm yet _caring_ in all of their needs, known or not. Most of all, he was normal when he was with them. A young man with _dreams_.

And Kise _loved_ it. _Flourished_ in it even.

Yet, it was that morning when an errand boy had given him a letter to ruin it.

It was from his mother.

Kise felt his lips twitch from his consistent smile before he composed himself, opening it at his desk, Murasakibara having gone home for the weekend to visit his hometown for a bit. Golden topazes scanned the words with a darkened glare as a frown cut through Kise's facade, the living god not realizing how quickly his mask was breaking. _Ryota_.

Kise gripped his temples, topaz eyes wild. _**No!**_ _His mother was not here._

 _Ryota_. The blonde whimpered as he vaguely noted he was on the ground, knees tucked under him. _You are the reincarnated Sun God. Gods do not have companions. They_ _ **rule**_ _with no mercy. Ryota. Remember. You cannot_ _ **frown**_ _. You cannot_ _ **feel**_ _._

It only took a few more minutes for him to begin to cry.

* * *

The sun blazed high as Aomine gripped the edge of his blunted bokken in a grip that threatened to break the wood, his anger and frustration clear on his expression. Servants scurried away swiftly at the sight, well aware that the son of the Commander had a temperament that was easily as bloodthirsty as his parents combined. Bodies were a common sight in the estate as were in any House of power, and the home of the tanned male was only rivaled in his captain's as far as body count with Murasakibara and Midorima in the tow, Kise's only proportionally lower because _voluntary_ sacrifices did not count.

Let be said that Teikons were not merciful of souls. No, they possessed something more sinister — _bloodlust_ — characteristic of their people, that once they killed… they _changed_.

His father had been gone for nearly half a year, a short cry from his longest record of two years of simply communicating with his wife and son with short letters and gifts from conquered lands. Daiki had so many swords and weapons that ranged from the smallest of needles for torturing prisoners-of-war to the enormous blunt clubs that could give any man justification for running in the other direction. But that was nothing compared to his father — especially the things people said about him.

Aomine Gentarou was a glorified symbol upon the battlefield, stern and harsh. Daiki, being a young boy, had no idea of the brutality of war. He was the pinnacle of innocence until Satsuki opened his eyes one day.

There was _no one_ who did not know his father and his accomplishments.

Teiko's Commander of the Army was nearly as famous as the Royal Priestess of the Celestials — undefeated and like a god, _cold_ and _merciless_. Therefore, one day when Daiki had accompanied his father in the frontlines, he saw what war was and the monster that they praised as a hero that was his father. War was a red storm of blood, entrails and death. There was no _honor_ or _pride_ in war, only carnage and losses of young men that had families that loved them. If only he could say that.

 _No._ Teikon war was not _war_. It was a _melee_ of spilling enemy blood, men with sadistic smiles as they giggled at the burning homes and dying people and when one of their own died, they accepted it with _happy hearts_ — loyal that they were not enough to see victory. They were the _perfect_ soldiers. So perfect that Aomine saw nothing but mad men drowning in their own bloodshed. Aomine was aware of the _change_ when a Teikon killed. It was noticeable — everything of the person changed and yet nothing did — as if it was always there, only dormant within, waiting.

He was nearly there. He nearly _changed_ that night.

Satsuki was sleeping over (she had taken over his wing, without his permission) as she often did before complaining about how much of a fruitcake her father was to think she was going to marry someone she didn't love. Daiki, of course, being the boy he was just stared at her as if she proclaimed Midorima was weird. He had long ago accepted that all girls at some point of their young life had the fantasy of being in love and it being the meaning of their life.

But in any case, with Satsuki in his chambers, Daiki slept in his father's as the other rooms of their residence were being renovated in the spring days. And it was in this spring night that assassins attacked.

Aomine did not recall the following morning very clearly but he recalled that Momoi was hugging him from behind in her night robes, torn and bloody with the blood of the enemy — how he knew that, he couldn't remember. Her magenta eyes were cold, poised to kill and a small smile gracing the trembling body — in the shattered mirrors, he was stood over someone, in all black and still breathing. His sapphire eyes were wild, crazed and almost glowing as he gripped a bloody katana at the blade, thick with his and his victim's. And lastly, the gruesome smile on his lips, it was an exact copy of his father's. The smile didn't scare him, it was the _lack_ of pleasure that did.

He was a Teikon — one the few true ones of the generation — the others were mere honorary Teikon. Even his mother had _amusement_ when she beat disloyal servants. Then why didn't he feel _pleasure_? _Why didn't he feel anything?_

Was there something _wrong_ with him?

"You are okay, Dai-chan." Satsuki. "It's _okay_. It will be okay, Dai-chan."

How Satsuki was able to convince him of that, he didn't know. He only knew that if she wasn't, he would have been a rampaging killer, killing everything in his way. They were ticking volcanoes, ready to erupt at anytime — _**Teikons**_. Which was why Daiki readied himself with every weapon possible, mastery every and any he had access to — until he came to the frontlines and learned what Teikon war was. The screams of the enemy echoed in his ears until he was deep in the capital, ringing as if they had screamed for hours — they begged to deaf ears, cried to sadistic smiles, gripped to cold-blooded soldiers and bled on the unforgiving Teiko soil. This was the actions of a man they called a hero, which was in reality, a man who simply murdered for the right side. _That's all he was._

 _ **CRACK!**_

Aomine blinked as he registered sharp pain in his palms as his eyes told him he had snapped his bokken in half in his last strike. Dropping the wooden sword, Aomine blankly took in his bleeding and splintered hands. _What was wrong with him? Was he a hero? Or was he a murderer? Was it wrong to feel pleasure or not?_

* * *

The candy shop was open as Murasakibara stared at where Oba-chan always sold taffy — a young man several years Nijimura's senior manning it instead. Throwing a couple of coins before he was handed a few sticks of taffy, Murasakibara stuffed one into his mouth before asking. "Where is Oba-chan?"

"Who?" The black-haired man blinked, shifting the cooling caramel.

"The oba-san that runs this stand everyday."

"Ah. You're talking about grandmother." The man shrugged, as he grew annoyed. "She said she wasn't feeling well and told me to man it for her today. It's a _pain_ , to be honest. She keeps insisting on doing this _stupid_ job."

Atsushi frowned. "It's not stupid."

"It _is_ if she's better off making money doing something else." Was his retort, grey eyes cold. "But _no_. Instead, she insists on making this _crap_ and being happy that children are smiling or some dumb old _bitch_ can't even make _her_ quota and pulls _me_ from _my_ training when _she_ gets sick."

Atsushi felt something snap in his mind. _This_ _ **scum**_ _… deserved to die._

But before he could attempt in murder, a voice made him pause. Scum he may have been, he was _also_ Oba-chan's grandson. And knowing her, she loved her grandson, even if he was an ungrateful bastard that deserved to die in a ditch. An elder who should have been taken care of by their children and subsequent grandchildren, was instead sent to work and was punished for not making enough. Murasakibara was not the most _filial_ son, but at least, he buried his parents with his siblings, assisted in the family business and did not badmouth them. The dead were _respected_. Even if they were gone, that did not mean they were to be disrespected — they were in a permanent state of being, no longer.

Therefore, Murasakibara hugged his candies, for once, not caring that he could have broken them in his arms and walked away — not succumbing to his blood lust.

Years later, Atsushi would have looked back and wondered what if he had.

* * *

Midorima gathered his things silently, apprehensive and cautious. The premonition from the gods foretold ill fortunes for those who lingered in thought today, cursing them to mental torment. The gods were never wrong. However, that did not mean that Midorima could not deny it as much as he wanted to with his will. Eyeing his bracelet, the young doctor's son, to the surprise of many, actually _hated_ it. His life hung in the balance of this bracelet, when it broke or was lost, so was he.

And today was a day that was not prosperous for any of them.

Sighing through his nose, the young doctor in the making stood, green eyes gazing to the spot in his room that it always ended up at. Within an indent of his wall, a small comb box held the needle, his lucky item from that day. Reminding him consistently that his father, a Royal Doctor that was acknowledged to be the best of the nation, was not as innocent and clean of politics as he wished. In reality, the doctor was in tandem with the Royal Priestess, Jou Heika and Tenno Heika — answering to them and them only.

To the royals, the Midorima line disposed the bodies of the so-called pets of His Majesty and the favored concubines of Her Majesty — saying they had died through mysterious causes and also sending the bodies to appropriate parties, never to be heard from again. Momoi's reports never lied.

Sometimes, Midorima stared at the man that was his father and would see the kind man that raised him. Others, he couldn't recognize if they were one and the same. Grasping his shoulders, Midorima felt himself shiver as if a cold draft had entered — _was he a filial son by not saying anything? Was he an unfilial one for turning a blind eye?_

His father told him over and over again. _Man proposes, the gods dispose._

 _His fate was not him to decide_. The gods were the beings who had that luxury, he was no more than their lowly creation, bound by that fate. _Who was he to choose anything when they were the ones who did in the end?_

* * *

That evening, the six of them gathered in the courtyard of their training grounds — Nijimura before them with a risen brow as he scanned all of them.

Kuroko was as unexpressive as ever, although he appeared more tired than usual as he had a long and hard day of things not working out as he wanted it to. To his right, Aomine looked like all he wanted was an order to cut down something and watch the life drain out of it's eyes by how angry he looked, frustrated at something that he could not understand. Nijimura had a feeling it had nothing to do with his studies. Down the line was a sullen Kise, to which greeted everyone with a half-hearted shout of the nickname he bestowed everyone — that was enough of a signal to show that the blonde was _not_ okay — but what really sold it was the red-rimmed eyes and _very fake_ smile. To the left of his younger sibling, Akashi was visibly distracted, a feat within itself as the leader of the six had a rather reasonable patience and at times, almost _too_ aware. Midorima was no better, he was as lost as Aomine was in class, meaning that he had _no idea_ what he _did not know_ — all the while hugging a rolled tatami mat. Murasakibara was no better, not eating any snacks of any kind and instead, had taken to grinding his teeth — as if he was imagining something in between as he grounded the powerful molars.

The old man was right. He had his work cut out for him.

 _Senpai intervention time_.

"All of you." Nijimura ordered with sternness, arms crossed. "I want you all to drop your weapons and run laps around the courtyard until you _drop_. And when I mean _drop_ , I mean until you would rather _cut off your legs_ than run _ever_ again."

Aomine looked ready to protest with murderous intent along with the others at the _ludicrous_ training menu for the day but the darkening aura around their senpai told that such a thing was not wise for their well-being. _Formidable_ , the Kiseki no Sedai, but this was their most respected senpai and Kuroko's nii-sama. They bowed to none perhaps, but this man.

Complaints dying in their throats, the weapons clinked to the floor as they all broke out in a run as a group. Aomine was dashing with the anger of a rampaging bull, Kise following to the best of his ability only to falter when he was dismissed — joining the others: Akashi ran in the front with a frown over his features, finally noticing everyone's off behavior; Midorima was one half a step behind, still looking a bit lost in his own world; Murasakibara was running a bit slower, making a gap in the groupmas he looked like he wanted nothing more than to get out of here with a panting Kuroko behind him; Kise, finally, retreated to the gap, jogging with a fake smile that looked sad even to him.

Kuroko collapsed thirty-two minutes in. Kise gave up an hour and sixteen minutes in. Midorima followed twenty-two minutes after. Murasakibara dropped fifteen minutes after. Aomine fell twenty-six minutes after. Akashi knelt three minutes after.

Ordering a few servants to tend to the exhausted and overexerted boys, Nijimura towered over them — grey eyes analyzing. They all were being toweled down, supplied with water and looked like they really couldn't stand at all. Kise tried to get up, only to falter and fall back on his butt, thus requiring Nijimura to have to request servants to carry all of them to the front of the courtyard, ignoring the protests when they clearly overdid it. But Nijimura determined that they needed it, as an excuse to rest and get over whatever happened. _This_ is why he hated vacations. It threw off _everything_.

Looking over them, Nijimura approvingly nodded, crossing his arms. " _Good_. None of you brats are distracted anymore."

The smarter half of them caught on immediately while the other half were a beat away as he continued. "I don't know what happened to all of you today, but when you're _here_ and more importantly in _battle_ , all of that needs to be _out of your fucking heads_. Don't let all of that cloud your mind and get your _dumbass_ killed. You all may be strong and skilled, but the _moment_ you falter, anyone wielding a rotting pumpkin can kill you the moment you are distracted."

" _But_ ," Nijimura cut in, internally patting himself on the back on how much of a good senpai he was. He deserved a nice cake. _Yeah_ , cake sounds good. "That does not mean that you don't deal with it. If you're _frustrated_ ( **insert pointed look to Aomine, who grumbles at how transparent he can be** ), _distracted_ ( **encore for Akashi and Midorima, to which the former shrugs apologetically and the latter blushes** ), _mopey_ ( **all eyes look at Kise, who grimaces** ), _annoyed_ ( **Murasakibara huffs but says nothing** ) and finally, _done with everyone's shit_ ( **Nijimura stares at Kuroko, who ignores it like the statue he impressively imitates well.** ) — _talk to me or the others about it_ ( **insert surprised expressions of Miracles here** ). There's no point in leaving it be and not talking. You guys are _young_ , make _mistakes_ when you're trying to have fun and mature over them — just cuz you're a _little weirder_ , doesn't mean you're not _brats_."

"Now, get out of here. You guys are done for today."

Nijimura turned away with a feeling of accomplishment. _He was the **best** senpai._

" _Nii-sama._ We can't move."

 _Oh, yeah. Okay, maybe not the **best** …_

* * *

"So… You're telling me, all of you, as in _all six of you_ are injured." Momoi said flatly.

"Yes." Akashi nodded, from his shogi match with Midorima.

"HOW?!" They all cringed at the shout, all in varying places, still unable to move anymore than a crawling babe.

Kuroko explained the events of yesterday and Nijimura's punishment — Akashi apparently had spent the day making plans and overdue paperwork that his father requested for him to finish for the _entire_ day while Kuroko was pre-occupied with duties in the library that due to inefficient staff that refused to cooperate with him (they couldn't find him). "Aomine-kun has skinned both of his legs and hands (and lost feeling in his right arm), Akashi-kun has sprained his wrist, Kise-kun has bruised his ankle, Midorima-kun has pulled his knee and Murasakibara-kun has the same symptom as everyone else, myself included."

"And what is that?" She sighed tiredly as she found all of them stuffed in Kuroko and Aomine's room of their pavilion, on futons. Kise and Aomine were making paper planes out of their textbooks with a lazing Murasakibara with a few rice crackers in hand behind them, watching.

"None of us can physically stand for more than a second." Kise added happily.

Momoi just groaned into her hands — before noticing that they appeared almost closer to one another, at ease more than before. It was later that she learned that they had stayed up that night talking about their off moods and why their day was one of the worst days of their lives.

* * *

 _ **Last Night Conversations:**_

"Mine-chin is so dumb, hurting himself when he's angry~" Murasakibara began, after they all shared their tales in the pavilion, after having dinner delivered to them instead of going to the dining hall.

"Shut it! I don't want to hear that from someone who contemplates murder when he's angry!" Aomine growled as he blushed, hiding his bandaged hands. "Although, that fuck deserves it."

"Don't act like you don't, Aomine. Not that I care or anything." Midorima retorted, looking up from his unfinished homework. "And to think, we would actually agree on something."

"Shintarou, thinking too much is what your gods predicted to be your downfall today, do not be too spiteful for Aomine's gift of being tactless." Akashi didn't even look up from his book, knowing the annoyed glare that the green-haired boy was sending him.

"Like you have room to say anything either, Akashi. Nijimura-senpai looked at both of us!"

"What's your point, Shintarou? All of us suffered today, nevermind whether the gods favor us or not. Resulting in our pitiful state." Akashi shrugged, finally looking up. "There's nothing more we can do but rest and heal up." _And deal with pests that had to make everything even more annoying..._

"Who did he not look at?" Kise pouted. "He _even_ saw I was sad!"

"Anyone with eyes saw that, Kise-kun." Kuroko spoke up, startling the life out of them. Kise recovered first.

" _WAIT_. Does this mean Kurokocchi pays attention to me? That's so sweet of y—"

"Not anymore than anyone else." Only to crash and burn.

" _PFFT_. Tetsu, you're the best!" Insert AoKuro hug here. Aomine's arm is over Kuroko's shoulders. Thanks.

"KUROKOCCHI, HOW MEAN!" And a whining Kise here.

"Please stop your theatrics, Ryota. We are right in front of you. And unfortunately, cannot move as far as would we want to out of your vicinity."

"Yeah, Kise-chin. The neighbors are going to complain."

"WE _ARE_ THE NEIGHBORS, MURASAKICCHI!"

"Exactly." Aomine threw Akashi's book at him. ( _Hide._ Midorima hissed as he and Murasakibara ducked under the covers.) " _SO SHUT UP_."

" _Daiki_. You _dare_?" At this time, Kise is also hidden. What he did not see, was not there. _He hoped._

" _Oh, fuck._ " Kuroko found himself thrown up as a shield to Akashi's wrath. He did not consent to this.

"Please calm down, Akashi-kun." His expression was unchanged.

"I will. _At Daiki's funeral_ , Tetsuya."

"… Please rest in peace, Aomine-kun. ( _OI! TETSU!_ )" Kuroko prayed before turning to a looming Akashi. "Please do not miss, Akashi-kun."

" _Nonsense_ , Tetsuya." Akashi pulled out a thin knife, Aomine blanching. "I _never_ miss."

The following ten minutes, Aomine had lost feeling in his arm from landing wrong after trying to get up to escape Akashi, only to fall on Kise's ankle lightly (but enough to bruise), making the blonde yank the blanket that was wrapped around Midorima's leg, pulling his knee — while Akashi having miscalculated the strength of his throw, spraining his wrist as he scratched Daiki's cheek purposely (I had to miss on purpose, Tetsuya. Daiki is still useful. It's fine, Akashi-kun, I am unharmed.) — while Murasakibara and Kuroko merely sat back and watched the mess occur.

"… I want snacks, Kuro-chin."

"I can't get up either, Murasakibara-kun."

"Oh, yeah…"


	7. In Exchange for Madness

Chapter 7: In Exchange for Madness

Word of the mouth was the swiftest of fires as the punishment of Nijimura upon the six was widespread before nightfall as students already began to gather around the courtyard while the boys were running, largely ignored until the senpai shooed them away. It was then on, known that that although he was only a Captain in the Royal Army and soon to-be-former President of the Academy, he was the only _one_ that the Kiseki respected enough to call ' _senpai_ ' in the truest sense of the word. Not to mention everyone's eternal respect / fear for their lives, because if he was able to make _them_ go through punishment, who were _you_ to go against him?

Kuroko, like the others, was slowly recovering under Momoi's careful watch — since Aomine tried to sneak off one more hour of training (they could only train for one hour) — she was giving them no chances to injure themselves further. She came to their school for a reason more than to just feed them information — they were codependent allies now.

If there was a good thing for their temporary, incapacitated states (at least to Momoi, Akashi, Kuroko and Midorima) it was that they ( _three_ ) were able to catch up in their studies and their captain in his paperwork with the others' assistance — since he was too stubborn to ask for it. Kuroko took the first step by asking if there was something he could have assisted with, knowing that Akashi's pride wouldn't let him. Kuroko understood that much, he too was stubborn. (The _most_ stubborn of them all.) It took about a week for all of them to recover enough to move normally in relative ease since they didn't seriously injure themselves but Momoi kept them for an extra three days just in case with Shirogane's direct orders — giving them no choice but to obey because Nijimura's order only lasted the week — they were slowly going insane at being unable to move.

But gratefully, all of them emerged relatively unscathed after recovering (everyone knew that there would be _hell_ to pay if Nijimura had to get them out of another week's worth of schooling).

Feeling a bit foreign being in class once more, Kuroko was mildly surprised to be disturbed that evening after everyone bid one another goodnight, out in a nightly stroll after Aomine's snores kept him from his sleep. In thin yellow robes, the phantom spotted the intruder before he saw him, expectant since he was the Master — no matter how young he was. Incanting the code of the Shadowless World, Kuroko hid a smile in the shadows as he scared the daylights out of him once more. The smile faded back into his mask as he felt the eyes on him, replying the latter half of Kuroko's sentence.

"Hello, Kagami-kun."

" _Fu—!_ Will it kill you to come _normally_ , Kuroko?!" Kagami whisper-shouted as Kuroko put a finger to his lips when the red-head opened his mouth.

"It might." Kuroko answered, eyes fixated at the environment around him. Pretty flowers. "In our field of work, to be spotted is equivalent to be killed and having a…"

Kuroko stopped himself as Kagami felt like he had suddenly overstayed his place with the mysterious Kuroko Tetsuya, he was just a messenger, after all. And Kuroko was a sleeper agent, well as far as the dark-red haired male knew. "Kuroko?"

"My apologies, Kagami-kun. What are you here for?"

"Oh, _right_. Um, Hyuuga-senpai and Aida-san wanted to give this to you to pass on to the Master and she wanted to say that she was impolite to demand the Master to come back, since he's busy and all."

"I see." Kuroko took the black envelope, mentally noting to thank Kiyoshi-senpai into stopping Riko-san into demanding to monitor his every move just because of his status. "Thank you, Kagami-kun. I will see to it being delivered."

"So… you a messenger too?"

"In a way." Kuroko answered evasively. "The Master uses me as a medium of sorts."

"Sounds like a manipulative bastard." Kagami commented offhandedly. "If he wants all of these things to be sent over, why can't he do it himself?"

"It is not our business to know, Kagami-kun." Kuroko shrugged, as he placed the envelope in his sleeve. "All we have to do is make sure the messages are sent and given to the correct persons, we don't need to know the content of the messages to do that."

"I guess." Kagami sighed before moving to depart. "See ya, Kuroko."

"Goodbye, Kagami-kun." As the tall subordinate left, the phantom pulled out the envelope, reading the contents without change in his expression. It was short and to the point, informing him of what he requested that with the tidings of the breaking political world, _war_ was coming. And the six of them were going to be stuck in the middle of all of it. Pitted against one another, to kill and destroy but Kuroko had no intention of allowing his… preciously gathered… _friends_ to be taken from him so easily.

With a soft pad of his steps, Kuroko made his way to Akashi's chambers. There were plans to adjust and discuss.

* * *

Aomine was not the brightest student ( _he knew_ ) in the class, let alone in the academy but like Kise, he was not _stupid_ neither. The tanned male knew there was something off with his shadow and captain, if their synchronized glances were anything to go by whenever someone as much as mentioned news from the warfront. _Everyone_ knew that the war effort was slow to be realized so deep in the capital — peasants were the first to be sent, drafted and trained before ordered to the front lines — the best thing of Teikons, was that regardless of class, they _all_ shared the bloodlust of their lineage.

Purebloods like Aomine and the greater nobility possessed the greatest potential and skill and as one went down the hierarchy of class, the blood was diluted and with it, the bloodlust and skill to kill. Therefore, the king's madness was a byproduct that was _common_ as well as the queen's need to kill her competitors — they were no different from the nobleman who ordered the deaths of his unruly subordinates and the wives with their flogging of house slaves. Death of slaves (which were often prisoners of war, branded onto their ankles in serfdom) were all _too_ common. But that also prompted another problem — the utter lack of _true_ pureblooded Teikons.

In any case, the last that he heard of the warfront was that his father had been sent to the frontlines against Nambara and Haranishi, two polar kingdoms. Aomine heard that they had broken the alliance that held them together due to an internal feud — not that it was much of his concern, since it provided an opportunity for Teikou to effectively invade. Usually, it was with ease for Aomine Gentarou to command against two fronts, since they were on the East and West of Teikou since it was done in the past by former commanders. But the commander's son felt a prickle of apprehension.

His father was undefeated but that did not mean he was _not_ prone to mistakes.

Despite his military power, his father was not decisive — he was not _bold_ and _challenging_ , he only attacked when he had _all_ guarantee that he was to _win_ , through fair means or not. And anyone who had any experience with even a _minuscule_ of power knew that momentary hesitance could be _fatal_.

"Aomine?" Taken from his thoughts, Aomine blinked at the slightly concerned look on Midorima's face in his before frowning. They were alone in the class — huh, he daydreamed lecture away again.

"What?"

Midorima was not amused. "I've been calling for you for the past ten minutes. What is wrong with you now?"

Aomine looked away, easily telling that he was lying. "It's nothing. Some annoying stuff from hanging around Tetsu for too long."

"Kuroko?" Midorima rose an eyebrow, catching the lie for the pathetic facsimile it was. "Then you noticed that he and Akashi have been off as well? That's surprising for you. You were never the type to be so observant. Not that it is any of my business."

"You're not fooling _anyone_ , tsundere." Aomine rolled his eyes, as he packed his things sloppily to Midorima's obvious disapproval. "Since you're asking me, you don't know neither?"

"They have been tight-lipped." The tsundere merely said, grabbing his bag neatly. "Kise and Murasakibara know that something is up, but like us, they know nothing. All I know is that Akashi was awake with Kuroko this morning before breakfast at the dining hall but they were quiet after I arrived."

Aomine grunted, walking out of the classroom.

The day continued like that to Aomine's ire, his shadow and captain going off to speak privately every moment that they could — mealtimes (it was a _group_ thing, dammit), after classes, between drills and katas, even when _he and Tetsu_ (not _Akashi_ ) were supposed to bump blades after a good fight! This was getting _annoying_. What the _hell_ was so important that he and Akashi had to talk about it _all_ day?! And the others were _not_ helping. Midorima was trying to act like he didn't care being the tsundere he was but spectacularly _failing_ at it by constantly staring at the two's direction like a broken lighthouse. Kise, in other hand, fell into a whiny and depressed fangirl mood, crying over why his _beloved_ and _pure_ Kurokocchi being taught and tainted of the _evil_ ways by Akashicchi — Aomine gave him a kick for his sniveling. Murasakibara was more subtle with his concerns; he noted it, voiced it, then ate away — but any one of them could see the glances and the much slower rate he munched on his beloved snacks. Even Momoi was not exempt as she was mysteriously nowhere to be found.

 _Something_ was up and people were _not_ talking.

It was not until he had cornered his phantom in their shared pavilion that he realized he hadn't even had a conversation with Tetsu today — it was the _first_.

"What's with you and Akashi?"

"Please do not say it like that, Aomine-kun. The way you say is misleading. And there is nothing going on with me and Akashi-kun. We merely had a lot to discuss today." Kuroko said as he set his things into a shelf, readying for bed.

"Like _what_?"

"That is a matter between Akashi-kun and myself, Aomine-kun."

"So, you guys keeping secrets now?" _No_ , he wasn't sulking.

"It's not really a secret, Aomine-kun. More of a discussion."

"The point is, you're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No." Kuroko delivered at point blank as Aomine blinked, not expecting such a blunt reply. "Because Aomine-kun will know by tomorrow."

The tanned boy blinked. " _I will?_ "

Kuroko nodded slowly, icy blue eyes carefully blank. "The _whole nation_ will, Aomine-kun. Therefore, to spare yourself a sleepless night, please hold your tongue and wait. Good things come to those who wait, Aomine-kun."

Aomine laughed sardonically, bitter and cruel. "You know as well as I do, Tetsu. Good things are the _last_ thing incoming."

"Let's sleep, Aomine-kun."

With a grunt, Aomine blew out the candle, the both of them closing their eyes to the darkness of the world, only one aware of the turmoil that dawn would bring.

* * *

Akashi was silent as he collected his thoughts, in the gazebo at the dead of night after Kuroko's unannounced visit when he and his vice captain were in the midst of their shogi game. One look at the phantom's eyes, the son of the prime minister knew _something_ was amiss. Excusing himself, he was informed of the message via the Shadowless World from it's very Master. His fingers drummed against the wood of the railing, overlooking the lake that reflected the midnight sky — riddled with stars and wisps of clouds, traces of a lovely day to dawn in hours — how _ironic_. It was not completely unexpected nor did it particularly throw any of his plans into significant danger, but in the long term, it was so vital that there could only be _two_ possibilities — _shattering_ or _detrimental_ to his plan. But only _time_ could tell.

"Have you confirmed this, Kuroko?" Akashi asked after a short silence.

"Momoi-san is in the midst of confirming it on her end, Akashi-kun. But you know that the Shadowless World is not one to report false information. Not directly to me in this manner." An observant Kuroko reports to him, calmly and clearly. "But if true, this development changes things, Akashi-kun."

"If we were to assume it true, it does move the time table, Kuroko, but not out of the range that I had predicted. It will make _all_ the enemies of Teikou, dormant or active, emerge and lust for _revenge_." Akashi's eyes darkened with almost anticipation as he spoke, undoubtedly formulating more plans. "And their goal would be the _same_ — to take down our sacred nation."

"' _Winning is everything._ '" Kuroko quoted, as he nodded. "It has other effects as well, Akashi-kun. Aomine-kun will never be the same, which is why you gathered all of us here. To be together when the world _crumbles_ before our very eyes. Where, all that matters is _school_."

Akashi nodded, not unsurprised that Kuroko pieced some of his plot together. "But even _I_ cannot shield you all forever, Kuroko. And we cannot be _children_ forever. The world does not _wait_ for anyone, not even children."

Tetsuya stared his longest friend, eyes blank. "Akashi-kun and myself have not been children since we changed." _They were still waiting on the others, after all._

Akashi smiled softly, his left eye flickering yellow in the moonlight. " _Tetsuya_ …"

The pitter-patter of flat shoes sounded, interrupting their midnight talks as the two boys turned to find a disheveled Momoi before them with a blue envelope in her hand, magenta eyes glowing with anger as she nearly tore the parchment in her manicured fingers. Her expression confirmed it, the envelope be damned. _So, it was true._

High Commander of the Imperial Teikon Army, Aomine Gentarou, had lost for the _first_ time in history; forced to retreat without his goal to overtake Nambara and Haranishi. Instead, he found himself surrounded with only enough to cleave a blood path back to Teikon soil. Retreating with his tail behind his legs, men slaughtered and only surviving with the skin of his teeth.

Thus began the Dark Invasion, the downfall of the Teikon Empire. Like all great empires, all it took was _one_ mistake. All because a message was delayed to the High Commander, making the great military leader _hesitate_.

In the later words of Aomine Daiki, who would later be recorded to be one of the greatest military leaders of history — " _My old man waited._ And _that's_ what fucked him over. All because he _fucking_ waited for something that _didn't_ come."

* * *

The effects of the news of Aomine Gentarou's defeat in the hands of Nambara and Haranishi, was almost _immediate_ upon the nation of Teikou — students and ministers whispered that it was the beginning of the _downfall_ of the much celebrated war leader, children clung to their mothers' skirts as they felt in some sense that the _guarantee_ of their father's return was no longer, wives grasped into the desperate hope that their husband would return, sons readied their blade for the eventual call to arms while daughters prayed to the gods above to save them and allow them the victory that was above all. The six Miracles did no such _trivialities_.

As Tenno-Heika ordered for the fortification of their great capital and the enlistment of all abled men to join the warfront, Akashi had greater concerns.

Aomine Daiki, son of the no longer undefeated, was _unmoved_.

He stood in the center of their courtyard in his training clothes, favorite blades before him in a semicircle, enough to go against a small army as he stared into the morning sun. His eyes were unseeing, in a realm of their own. Nothing was out of place, as the sun continued it's travel across the sky. Where the light went, the shadow followed and Aomine Daiki's was no different as Kuroko Tetsuya was the one who watched first, perched quietly on their pavilion roof that overlooked the courtyard. His eyes were unmoved from his light, waiting like the shadow he was.

Kise was the first to approach. He didn't speak, but rather seated himself on the corner of large stone yard. Unlike his usual smile and godly demeanor, he sat with an air of unease that only the other five picked up on — on the surface, he looked very much of a lounging god, tracing spells on the stone — but they _knew_ better. Midorima arrived next, eyes disinterested as he seated himself on the opposite corner, across from Kise with a book in hand. To the untrained eye, it would have seemed as if the tsundere had taken a seat to read, but the full bag that contained anything to be cure for all possibilities and the discreet glances to the still tanned male was _obvious_ to any of the other five. Murasakibara was next, taking the corner diagonal to Midorima, with parcels that formed a small hill beside him, eating away as he lounged with his back to the reinforced stone. Eyes were distant and as glazed as Aomine's but the smallest _move_ was not unnoticed by those violet eyes. It took another hour — almost by noon until their leader arrived, his steps sound with an ominous _tap-tap_ as he took in the sight, drinking it in. Before taking his own place, in the last corner to Kise's diagonal, he opened his own book and a pot of ink, calligraphy forming in the pages.

They all stayed like that for hours, even after classes as students, cohorts and seniors alike (even _teachers_ ) gathered to see if the rumors really were true. Even the world seemed to await as the wind died and not a soul dared to break the silence, the soft flutter of sakura snowing over all of them.

Only to have it broken _all_ at once.

With almost deadly unison, the other five _moved_. Kuroko held Aomine in a locked position with his shadow strings, a near invisible ebony as they wrapped over his major joints and neck while Kise parried Aomine's risen katana with his spear, locked by the tanned male's other blade in reverse grip. Midorima's accurate arrow was intercepted by a just as accurate slice through the middle before he parried with the blonde, another snapped underfoot as the archer held two more nocked on his bow while Murasakibara frowned with slight annoyance at Aomine's other foot over his metal club, trapping him. Akashi, in other hand, mirrored the phantom in that he had his bladed fan over Aomine's neck, ready to draw the first blood with the flick of his wrist.

" _Aomine_." Akashi's voice rang loudly in the courtyard, like a bullet piercing the silence. "What is our nation's decree? What is it that matters in the _end_?"

All present knew the answer. Teikons from the day they were born, _knew_ it.

"…' _Victory is everything_.'" Aomine replied softly, eyes downcast.

Akashi nodded, approving. "Therefore, you know that your father has _lost_. And his results has caused folly within the nation. These results are _not_ acceptable."

Aomine was silent. The weapons did not move. And neither did anyone else.

They all knew it, _acknowledged_ it even. It was no secret that Teikons killed their own for disastrous results or failures, they were the best and only the best, _lived_ — their decree was that victory was everything, it should have been _obvious_ — anyone who did _not_ follow or did _not_ conform, was _dealt_ _with_ accordingly. It would be expected that the Miracles too took this to heart and displayed no mercy upon their comrade-in-arms. In these chaotic wartimes, it was no surprise to see sons and daughters killed for the actions of their family, even if they were distantly related.

Therefore, when Kise relinquished his deadlock followed by the others — Midorima releasing the tension of his string, Murasakibara sighing before lowering his guard, Akashi removing his fan and Kuroko relenting his taut hold — whispers and a shocked pair of sapphire eyes glowed at them as Akashi smirked. "I will not relinquish _my_ knight so easily, Aomine. This previous event was a mistake of your _father's_ , not _yours_. The blame holds to him, not _you_." Despite his words, Aomine narrowed his eyes. Akashi chuckled, amused.

" _Ah, so you noticed_." The prime minister's son smirked wider, as he unfurled his fan once more, blades hidden. Of course, the army boy saw that they all may have lowered their weapons but they were still _on hand_ , _armed_ to be ready. "Then, I will be _frank_ with you, Aomine. I will _not_ tolerate mistakes that have been repeated, let this one be an _example_. Because it will be _then_ , that I will relinquish my knight by _my_ own volition."

"Then let _me_ tell you something, Akashi." Aomine spoke, gravelly from misuse. "If you _think_ I'm going to repeat my old man's _mistakes_ , you have _another_ thing coming. I am _never_ going to seep to his fucking level. _Ever_." Never visiting his family and so _crazed_ with blood and murder that he had two different _fathers_ — his Father and the _general_.

At the threat, the captain merely widened his smirk, fanning himself. "I look forward to your performance, Aomine."

Snorting, he pushed aside Kise's bladed spear, sending the blonde flailing with a yelp. "Damn straight, you will."

"Aominecchi is _back_ ~!" Kise screeched in his ear, ruining the mood as the tanned male began to argue, first with his near-deafened hearing. While Kuroko and Midorima released their guard and respective strings, Murasakibara following as he stabbed the club into the earth, violet eyes turned to his captain.

"Aka-chin?"

"Yes, Murasakibara?"

"Did you know of this earlier?"

The redhead hummed. "Are you speaking of the outcome or the situation?"

"I think you know."

Akashi appeared pleasantly interested. "Then, yes. I knew."

"And Kuro-chin?"

"There is a reason that I had him prepare Aomine for the blow, _though_ , such a thing is Tetsuya's nature. It was Tetsuya who knew of it before all." The redhead smiled softly, as if knowing and foreboding of the onslaught. "It is a sign, for the times that I have anticipated for."

"The reason why you asked all of us here?" The giant was smarter than he appeared as Akashi nodded, eyes on the now Tetsuya who was clearly worried for his light, reassuring him. "Gathered us here, at this very moment?"

"Precisely, Murasakibara." Akashi met his gaze with his second-in-command, who's green eyes widened with realization. "Because _soon_ , the capital and the land of victory, our precious Teikou will _bathe_ in her own blood."

* * *

Nijimura watched the boys, proud and slightly unnerved at how well they handled one another, it was nice to see the six of them had camaraderie with one another — the boys had no one else, after all. Akashi knew which buttons to push Aomine out of his funk and the others moved accordingly, supporting in their own way. Nijimura sincerely wished that the relationship would last — he had seen and experienced too many fallouts (often ending in bloody carcasses) to allow it to happen to his beloved kouhai.

Even if they were annoying little _brats_ who had growing egos. No matter how _justified_. He was still their senpai, _dammit_.

But that also meant he couldn't watch them forever. Not even Kuroko.

The old man did not tell him everything ( _damn him_ ) but he did say that Tetsuya was a colder and manipulative soul than he appeared — fragile and even, dare he say it, _weak_. But never did the captain forget that his younger brother, adopted or not, was an _assassin_ first and foremost — therefore, an appearance that was innocent, weak or even _suggesting_ of that, was a _gift_ to the assassin; one that was used to the _fullest_. Gripped with bloodlust of Teikons, Nijimura knew all too well in using the tools given to you with every advantage. But for some reason, he felt none from the small phantom — _no bloodlust_. He considered that he was maybe similar to Akashi, who held his like a pressure, so large that it seeped into his being and settled under a sturdy will that rivaled that of war-trained men. But there was nothing. _Every_ Teikon had bloodlust, especially _purebloods_ ; and the old man all but confirmed that of his sibling.

Kise had the least, most likely due to his new integration of war. But that was expected of the living god, who was untouched — however, what made him unique was the utter speed he improved and had such bloodlust already. Nijimura suspected potential was locked under that unrefined talent. Midorima was next, his bloodlust a subtle yet deadly thing, much like his overall strategy and offense — he was a great threat but his talent was weighed by his morals and mind, no matter how sound his aim was — he was the one who understood that human life ( _ha, look at him, sounding human_ ) was precious as a doctor. Murasakibara followed, surprisingly enough, as Nijimura often made the tall boy analogous to a sleeping dragon, a beast when slumbering visually enough to deter any sane human from poking at it with the expense of anything short of a limb; however, when awakened, none were spared from his wrath until his rage is _sated_. It was because it took a childish jibe to trigger Murasakibara, otherwise, the world's events received no time of day. Followed, was Aomine, despite not taking a single life yet. But Nijimura suspected that he was close once upon a time, _no_ Teikon danced the edge so dangerously without potentially have done something in the cloud of blood. However, as powerful and unpredictable he was with his prowess, Aomine was but a young man, fresh out of boyhood. Akashi held the greatest, Nijimura admitted, as he could easily see his kouhai overtaking him in the end of the year — but there was something wrong with the redhead's psyche — something more maddened than the usual insanity of regular Teikons.

Not that _any_ Teikon was mentally stable in any way. They were _known_ for their deranged, blood lusting, war-covered monsters. There was no way in _hell_ any of them were passing any mental evaluations.

But they made the _best_ soldiers. And if madness and sanity was the _price_ , then _so be it._ That was under the assumption that they had any in the first place.

And every Teikon took pride in it. They sold emotions and happiness for power, victory and madness. Nijimura only hoped that they were not the ones to _pay_ for it in the end.


	8. Sidestepping the Line

Chapter 8: Sidestepping the Line

Kuroko was not blind to it and neither was Akashi.

But unlike the captain, who accepted Aomine's pride at point-blank, Kuroko was silent. Ever watching and awaiting with the patience of a holy saint, the phantom confronted his light in the privacy of his— _their_ pavilion. As expected, Aomine denied it with an aura of cockiness; Kuroko merely stared at him, blocking the doors with his fragile form.

"I'm _fine_ , Tetsu!" Aomine looked away. _So easy to read._ "I'm really _fine_ …"

Kuroko waited, eyes intensely honing on his prey.

The panther relented and that's all he needed to come for the kill.

"Dammit, Tetsu… It's _pathetic_ , huh? _Me_ , the son of the greatest _fucking_ general of our sacred nation was actually _happy_ he lost." Slumping, the taller male laughed darkly, face illuminated by the dole candle in the room. "I _was_ happy, Tetsu. _Happy_ that my old man _finally_ messed up, meeting his _fucking_ maker. That, _that_ fucking General, that _monster_ had finally lost."

Tetsuya was quiet. "Then, why are you _crying_ , Aomine-kun?"

Daiki barked a laugh. It was dry and without humor, bitter.

 _Because he's still my goddamned father, Tetsu._

Kuroko did not move as he felt his form tackled to the wall with a hard thump, strong burly arms (not yet of a man but too large to be a boy's) over his torso, hands gripping his robes with the desperation of a lifeline. He did not flinch, when the candle burned out from Aomine-kun's tackle, pooling the room with darkness. But he did when his robes began to dampen, wet with a mixture of broken sobs. _W-What was this?_

Aomine-kun, if he noticed, paid it no heed. Because even though Tetsuya did not know what sadness was, he was still the only one who saw that he _wasn't_ okay. _No_ , that was _not_ right. He was the _first_ who did something about it. It was less than an hour later, that Kuroko felt the gasping breaths even into deep and slow snores, echoing as the light cried himself into blissful sleep. Adjusting himself to ease his trapped form, Kuroko resigned himself into staying there for the night. After all, he had thoughts to sort out.

Even as each of his friends peeked in to check up on the sudden silence of their room, Kuroko nodded for them to leave and assured that Aomine-kun was finally asleep after Akashi took one look before telling the others to leave them for privacy — his thoughts reigned supreme throughout the night. Beginning with exactly _why_ , the sight of his light's anguish made him fill with a burning vengeance towards Aomine Gentarou.

 _How curious, indeed. Was this sympathy, or something else?_

* * *

The following morning was riddled with unhealthy coping mechanisms of emotions — if any of them noticed the red eyes as a result of the previous night or Kuroko sporting dark bags with his usual untidy hair — it was ignored. Unaddressed and continued as if nothing was amiss.

Aomine couldn't have been more thankful.

His friends understood that he had his pride — _fragile_ , _fragile_ china — as a warrior and man; they respected it and left it to it's glass display. Besides, they had more important things to be worried about. Shortly after classes, Akashi stood before them, all sweaty and recently rehydrated by a small break.

"The match against our predecessors is in less than two weeks, giving us that time frame to prepare for it." The captain began calmly, hands folded behind him with his dangerous fan folded and in disuse. "Momoi has a detailed report to brief us for the evening, I assume no protests?"

Receiving none (not that it was a suggestion in the first place), the redhead voiced their dismissal — placing Midorima as vice captain, in charge as he turned away to report to Nijimura, on the other side of the courtyard with the lower strings. Like the others, Midorima noticed Aomine's less-than-best appearance and subtle forlornness of the phantom, but after dropping off the ace's lucky item with Kuroko's with a note of their rankings (not that he cared for their well-being or anything, if they faltered now, then all of the plans and efforts would have been for nothing; _obviously_.), he hoped — _secretly_ — that they would have picked themselves up from their moods by now. Although, if Akashi's demeanor were anything to go by, all was fine _for now_. And as usual, the two were right as Aomine made an obnoxious comment to Kise, only for it to blow up in an argument — _again_.

"Seriously though, how do they not see how much of a dumb blonde you are, Kise?" Aomine remarked after a couple of worshippers bowed low at the blonde's feet, after the general census was to wait for the captain. "Just look at your face."

"It's called _blind_ faith, Aominecchi! Everything I do even if it's _stupid_ , is considered an action of the gods." Kise grumbled back the moment the worshippers were out of sight, frowning before pouting. "I'm never going to tell you stories about my worshippers again to try to cheer you up!"

" _Tch_. I didn't ask." The ganguro grumbled.

"I once walked up to a small stand and took cookies." Murasakibara shared, when Kise ignored the tanned male to prompt the giant to tell a story of his own. "An annoying man knocked them out of my hands. ( _Insert internal wince here._ ) I kicked him and got back my cookies."

" _Er_. Murasakibaracchi." Kise cut in. "That's not really a cheerful story."

"Speak for yourself." Aomine snorted, turning to the giant. "Did you get his balls?"

"A pointy thing came out, poking through his leg — Nee-chan called it a _bone_." The giant replied with the nonchalance of weather small talk. Not like he broke anyone's leg or anything… _wait_ …

"You _broke_ his leg?!" Midorima exclaimed, before narrowing his eyes. "Did you happen to do this last year? In the _summer_?"

" _Maybe_ …?" Murasakibara shrugged. "It was a long time ago~"

"It was _you_ who did that!" Midorima growled before sighing to regain his composure. "That man can no longer walk, I would have you know!"

" _Tis_ flesh wound, Midorima-kun. I am sure that the man will regain his mobility after a few years." Kuroko piped up as Akashi finally returned with several proposals in hand for reviewing. Midorima looked at the shadow with a look of incredulity.

"Incapacitation is _not_ a flesh wound, Kuroko."

"It is to us, Shintarou." Akashi smirked lightly as Midorima huffed. As perfect machines ( _monsters_ ) of war, the Teikons were as dangerous as they were resilient. Therefore, with the increase of bloodline purity, was the increase of accelerated healing — at the purest bloodline, minor wounds healing in mere minutes while internal and more serious injuries spanning from hours or even days — considering the fact that the boys were still _boys_ , the injury of overwork ( _please see Chapter 6 for details_ ), was greater than any other. In scale, a broken limb required a day or two's rest at minimum, making last week's absence from classes a ploy to take rest from classes and others in general.

"But as interesting as our slight advantage of healing is," Akashi began, nodding to the pavilion as he stared at his friends curiously. "I believe I had already dismissed you all."

"We were waiting for you, Aka-chin." Murasakibara answered simply. "We didn't want to leave you behind."

A small warm erupted from his chest as Akashi felt the words comfort him unexpectedly — smiling softly as he laughed lightly. "Is that so? I apologize for making you all wait."

"It is no problem, Akashi-kun." Kuroko nodded, hiding a small smile of his own.

Ushering all to the bathes and out, followed by dressing into suitable and presentable clothing, the six of them gathered in their usual hangout at the gazebo with a stern-faced Momoi, awaiting them as she handed each of them a set of files. The table was supplied with grounded orange ink for corrections and suggestions, the finest rabbit or deer brushes that any noble can have. It was all business at this meeting as it lasted several hours, with the sunset background having changed into a candlelit evening by the lakeside. Which would have continued unstopped, until Nijimura found their rooms with stuffed pillows and missing bratty arrogant geniuses under his care, ready to yell at all of them at the break of dawn to go to _fucking_ _sleep_ like normal people.

Only to find them asleep, blissfully unaware that morning was coming in — Aomine was blatantly snoring away, a proposal draped over his face with his horrendous chicken scratch with a Kise who looked like a cherub, sleeping quietly against his chair subjected to writing on his god-like face, if not for the curled up Murasakibara on his lap, with crumbs of rice powder (from mochi probably) on his cheek. Midorima leaned on his own chair as well, glasses drooped from his nose bridge as he still held the paper he was reviewing in a loose grip of bandaged fingers. Opposite, Momoi used Aomine as her pillow, lashes dusting her cheeks as her fingers were marked with dry ink, indicating her hours of work. Kuroko pillowed his untidy head against his arms on the armrest of his chair, breathing softly as smeared ink smudged his right cheek. Leaving Akashi at the head of the table, sleeping with quiet snores against the table, brush still in hand like he had fallen asleep in mid-writing.

If Nijimura were a _certain_ colleague of his, he would have gushed at how _cute_ this scene was of his kouhai. But he wasn't. Therefore, he woke them up with a stern but blaring yell and ordered them to get their asses to get ready for class. _Damned brats._

But even he could not deny the smile that graced his face as he watched Kise accuse Aomine of writing on his face when he fell asleep, while Midorima lectured Murasakibara on eating before sleeping, as Akashi carried the forgotten Kuroko who was still dead to the world on his back with a resigned but fond smile towards their shared home. They were _his_ brats, all the same.

Only to his surprise to have _one_ more, join his brats.

* * *

Haizaki Shogo was the same age as the Kiseki no Sedai with a swagger that rubbed _nearly_ everyone the wrong way. Nijimura was followed by a grey-haired youth one day, interrupting Kuroko's shared class with Akashi, prompting a bit more than a fleeting glance from the class as the name of Haizaki was the same as the minister who ferried the prisoners-of-war from their colonized home country to the capital, for Tenno-heika's needs. The man was as sly as his position suggested, making him a useful pawn to Akashi's father — _expendable_ if necessary but otherwise still useful _if_ he knew his place. Akashi never made much effort to socialize with the corresponding heir, but his attitude implied that he was not the same, sniveling rat as his father. At least, not _yet_.

Akashi compared him more to a disobedient canine to which Tetsuya was reluctant to acknowledge outwardly in politeness. Momoi supplied her opinion of the male of clear _distain_ , as he was a known womanizer and apparently often used his slightly diluted blood status to his advantage when 'necessary'. Aomine didn't care for Haizaki's presence based on his treatment of his childhood friend alone, and therefore, did not tolerate his presence for more than necessary. Kise especially took to no adoration for Haizaki when he presented with similar abilities to Kise's renowned ones, often taunting the blonde for copying him since he was born first — therefore ' _gifted_ ' first. Midorima and Murasakibara viewed the grey-haired cohort similarly, a cohort that was unruly but served his purpose for now, therefore requiring supervision. _For now._

Kuroko was the one exception (as always). He took note of Haizaki's ditching of classes and practice as Nijimura one day ranted about skinning the grey-haired boy _alive_ for doing it on his first day. Shoving a glob of rice into his mouth, the elder sibling growled in annoyance as Kuroko picked at his food across from him — internally forlorn at the amount he had to put in his body.

"He's _lonely_ , nii-sama." Tetsuya said blinking at the contents his half-eaten bowl. Maybe if he stared at it long enough, it would go away. Internally shuddering, the phantom lamented that he was spending _too_ much time with Kise-kun and Aomine-kun. "Haizaki-kun is only acting that way to get attention."

"That's _not_ a legitimate reason to skip practice or classes." His older brother growled, unconsciously emitting a blackish aura.

"Your definition of a _legitimate_ reason is nothing short of death or extreme injury, nii-sama." Kuroko pointed out helpfully, ignoring the elder's glower. "I believe that Haizaki-kun is jealous."

" _Jealous?_ " Nijimura echoed, pausing in murderous thoughts as he continued to eat. "Of _what?_ "

" _You._ " Kuroko supplied bluntly as he was unfazed when his brother began to choke.

"Excuse — _what the fuck?!_ — me?!" The ebony-haired male choked out, chopsticks flying out of his hands as he gulped his tea greedily. "What the _absolute_ fuck are you talking about, Kuroko?"

"According to Momoi-san," Kuroko began his explanation. "Haizaki-kun is an only child who was homeschooled by many tutors who left after a day of lessons, having deemed Haizaki-kun too much trouble or unteachable due to his violent temper. Minister Haizaki-san is not often home, leaving him without care other than his servants — therefore, seeing how you care for us, he's jealous of something he _thinks_ he doesn't have. And the overbearing way that you are to him, — _excuse you, who are you calling overbearing?_ You _tied_ me to the bedpost when I was injured a week ago, nii-sama. That's because you insisted that you were fine, but you clearly _weren't_. A flesh wound, nii-sama. _Kuroko_ , a _stab_ of the thigh, _through_ and _through_ , is _not_ a flesh wound. — he is running away because he doesn't know how to react to it. So, he does what he _knows_ , running away."

Nijimura narrowed his eyes at the detailed report from his little brother — not that he didn't see all of that. "How did you see _all_ of this, Kuroko?" Momoi was _thorough_ but not so thorough to make conclusions of a person's drive.

Kuroko shrugged. " _Observations_ , nii-sama."

Humming, the elder brother bit into his chopsticks contemplatively. " _Hm_. I'm still going to beat the shit out of him. The world doesn't wait for emotionally stunted brats."

The younger felt the stare as he stared right back in retaliation. "Are you suggesting _something_ , nii-sama?"

"Until you finish your dinner, yeah, I am."

"It's too much, nii-sama."

"It's literally _one_ scoop of rice more. _Eat_."

Pouting, Kuroko ate a bit more that night than usual, to Nijimura's satisfaction.

However, regardless of Kuroko's assessment to Nijimura, the tension came to a head when Haizaki blatantly walked up to the Miracles' courtyard in clear challenge. Due to the difference in ability and overall skill, it was an unspoken agreement that the rightmost courtyard, the closest one to the boys' pavilion — it belonged to them _alone_ , with notable exceptions ( _Nijimura_ ). The only blood, sweat and tears that were allowed to be split on those tiles were the Miracles and their current opponents, and even then, usually only the second would be spilt by the prodigies. Therefore, when Haizaki waltzed onto the granite courtyard like it was his, wielding a tsukubo, a spear-headed staff similar to Kise's only without a blade, the grey-haired male's was headed by a T-shaped head with spines for bloody blunt force trauma — heads turned, and if provoked, would _roll_.

Aomine and Kise were currently going against Midorima and Murasakibara, Kuroko having yet to arrive after their professor had forgotten to mark him present (Nijimura following after to give that professor a piece of his mind. This was the seventh time this month, _dammit_.) as Akashi was overseeing the match, eyes narrowing at Haizaki's haughty form nearing. Although Aomine and Kise did not pause in their attacks to the best defense players of their team who did the same, their glances and slightly lessened attention to each other was evidence enough that they were listening.

"Seijuurou, you mind if I join in?" If Akashi was irked by the usage of his given name, the redhead did not give any indication as Haizaki smirked with sarcasm. "Since you're the boss of all of us, right?"

To walk on an unwelcome courtyard was one thing. To challenge oneself in a supervised battle with four prodigies was also one thing. To use sarcasm to authority was one thing, as well. But to do so, on the _Kiseki's_ courtyard, to the _prodigies_ of prodigies, and to address _Akashi_ _Seijuurou_ in such a way? That was _another_ thing entirely.

The rest of the students prayed for the soul of Haizaki Shugo, senpai or kouhai, alike as the Kiseki — Midorima pausing in releasing an arrow directed at Kise's thigh, as the blonde brandished his spear against the hidden blade in the glasses' bow while Aomine growled out a curse that was unrelated to his dead-lock with Murasakibara's club — tensed.

"Haizaki-kun." Only to have the tension be broken by a deadpanned voice, belonging to one and only Kuroko Tetsuya. "Aomine-kun and Kise-kun have a prior arrangement with Murasakibara-kun and Midorima-kun, you would have to await your turn and return at another time."

"What the _fu_ —?!" Haizaki jumped with the rest of the students other than Nijimura, who was right behind his younger sibling, the only reason Haizaki slurred his curse. " _Tetsuya_."

Kuroko met his stare straight on, expression blank. "If you would please; please refer to Nijimura-senpai if you wish to spar with us."

The dismissal was final as Nijimura gestured for the ash-haired male to follow him for a scolding without a doubt as the tension dissolved, the phantom taking his place beside Akashi as the four continued their spar. Tetsuya waited. The emperor always spoke first.

"Kuroko, your arrival was most appropriate." Akashi kept his eyes on his men. "What do you make of Haizaki? Considering we have Ryota on our side?"

"Is Akashi-kun asking me in short term of academic purposes or towards the far future?" The assassin questioned after a small silence, ignoring the sound of grunts, curses and the singing of clashing blades; words only loud enough for the two of them to hear as they watched Aomine gain the upper hand against the giant while Kise dodged too-close-for-comfort arrows from the archer.

" _Both_." The captain ordered more than requested.

"In short term, Haizaki-kun is useful. He has a nearly pure bloodline that is only sullied in his paternal relative — he is unruly and uncivil, allowing manipulation that is far from difficult if need be. He is similar in skill to Kise-kun, making him a suitable rival before Kise-kun develops. However, that is why he is _not_ useful in the long term. Kise-kun has more potential than Haizaki-kun, and will surpass him in a year — as well as the reputation if associated, will be detrimental more than beneficial."

"Your observations are as sharp as ever, Kuroko." Akashi smirked, as he nodded to the spar — the friends had switched opponents, Aomine weaving away from Midorima's sudden onslaught offense while Kise learned how fruitless it was to try to counter Murasakibara with strength. "Yes, in the meantime, Haizaki is useful. But in the future, we will need to cut him out of the picture, when his usefulness is no longer _required_."

This did not surprise anyone in the least. Much less Teikons, as Haizaki knew his position whether it be subconsciously or in the subsequent future, consciously in dire realization. Teikons, by nature, _used_ others — their associates whether they were kin or not, were taken by skill, determination, and most of all; usefulness. It was not the intellectual in academics nor the most powerful that survived to victory — it was those who were _clever_ and _resourceful_. Leaving the others as the fodder in the dust, there was many that built the mountain that the Kiseki no Sedai were pedestaled upon, only the most famous was the Ashen Execution.

An execution that was done publicly and for all the world to witness.

* * *

Finally, the day had arrived, the ascension and subsequent dethronement of the current Student Body — the main event of school history. For the first time, a group of freshmen were outing the senior seatings within the first months of school, it was almost cinematic. In proper ceremonial decorum (no one could say that Teikons did not have their _dramatics_ ), the new Cabinet was welcomed in by the old, with advice and pointers to their new duties. But that was _after_ they got in.

The talent of the seniors that came before the Kiseki no Sedai were amazing, as the best of the best before prodigies — they were considered second to the Uncrowned Generals. Nijimura personally were not aware of whom the Uncrowned Generals were, but he knew _enough_. They were a select group that was a mix-match of races from differing kingdoms that possessed skills that were rivaled the Kiseki by a _small_ but _significant_ degradation; they were considered geniuses themselves but _dulled_ in comparison to his brats. Young aces of their respective armies and kingdoms, they were formidable but still, against them individually — Teikou was still the _best_. And before the Kiseki no Sedai, their seniors had the experience and talent to keep _them_ at bay, warranting them the recognition they rightly deserved.

They were the _best_ of the common man, without powers of godly gifts, with experience that surpassed all students of Teikou. A _force_ to be reckoned with.

Not to mention they were led by _Nijimura_ — an individual that the _Kiseki no Sedai_ were wary before as an opponent. Therefore, when they all alined on the very familiar rightmost courtyard, Nijimura was pleasantly surprised to see his brats were calm — and dare he say, _confident?_

 _Brats._ They may have the potential to surpass him but he wasn't _that_ senile yet.

Drawing his blades at the signal, Nijimura launched his attack — targeting his mark with a ferocious offense at Kise. The blonde was the most unaccustomed to battle as he was proven correct when the mimic faltered at the strength of his senpai, reminding him that he was respected for a _reason_.

Kise shielded himself from a crippling blow by twisting away, one that Nijimura let by him, as he scanned his body — _not yet, huh?_ Shortening the distance, Nijimura's blade sang in his mind for flesh, to tear into the bodies of his kouhai to teach them their place. But he ignored it, increasing the speed of his slashes, jabs and blows that it was almost unseen to any lower leveled warrior — making the blonde boy sweat. When he had almost broken through Kise's crumbling defence, his hands were suddenly pulled another direction, fixed in place at his base form drawn before him. Tetsuya had finally acted as Nijimura smiled slightly at the red strings that tied him quite literally.

But instead of pulling away to free himself, the president loosened his grip over his blade, relaxing his terse muscles before they slipped through the strings — to Kise's surprise, barely managing to draw up his weapon in defense to Nijimura's sudden assault.

"Don't be so reliant on Kuroko's strings, _Kise_." Nijimura scolded, adding force as he could feel the younger male's grip tighten in response before sweeping under his knees, forcing the blonde to lose his footing. "You're too easy to predict."

" _Nii-san, too._ " A disembodied voice sounded behind him, as Nijimura blinked to find Kise not under him and at his mercy, but rather several feet away, like he was pulled to safety. Coal eyes narrowed. _No, he_ _ **was**_ _._ The eyes caught the strings wrapped over the blonde's joints — so, Tetsuya had _more_ than just the conventional in his skillset as they met light blue as he caught a hidden blade against his katana, mere inches from his younger sibling's face. "Please do not underestimate us so easily, Nijimura nii-san."

Finding a smirk spreading over his lips, Nijimura smiled widely.

"With the likes of you brats? _Never_."


End file.
